The Rising of the Palace
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: An evil thing from ages past has arisen once again, and this time, it is coming into a world that doesn't believe it can exist. Tim finds himself at the epicenter of an ongoing battle between good and evil. Story consists of a prologue, 15 chapters and a very short epilogue.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** This story is a supernatural story which is based on Edgar Allen Poe's "The Haunted Palace". It was written for the Poe Challenge and is a supernatural story. I'm happy with how it turned out, but it is definitely supernatural. So if that's not your thing, you may want to steer clear. :)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS or "The Haunted Palace" by Poe. I'm not making any money from this story.

* * *

 **The Rising of the Palace  
** by Enthusiastic Fish

 **Prologue: The Haunted Palace**

 _In the olden Time, long ago..._

Two men stood together, meeting secretly atop the highest tower, looking out over a domain that would soon fall. Both knew it, but one still held a desperate hope of recovery.

"It is too late, now."

"It cannot be too late. It is never too late."

"Until now. See for yourself what has happened to this valley. Where once we could look and see the green from the fields and the blue of the rivers and all were happy and safe, now, all I see is misery, decay and corruption."

"What one sees in a moment does not have to be what is seen in the next moment. I cannot accept that all is lost."

"You cannot accept it because you feel it will reflect poorly on you."

"No. It is because my father is the one who has done this."

"It is not your father."

"You speak of an evil thing."

"Yes."

"Not many believe such things exist."

"You have seen him. You have seen his eyes. You know that it is an evil thing, not your father."

"It is my father's face, my father's voice."

"It is his body, but not his soul."

"I cannot allow him to destroy the valley."

"It has already done so. The best thing would be to flee before it realizes that you still live."

"I cannot run."

"There is no other choice. Left alone, it would die. Those who survived the destruction have already fled."

"I will kill it."

"It is evil, but it cannot be killed. The only thing that can cure corruption is infinite purity. Otherwise, the corruption will simply spread to the pure. You cannot kill it."

"You may leave, but I will not."

"You must. If you die, the house will fall."

"If I leave my father here, there is no house worth preserving."

The red sun sank beneath the horizon, plunging the decaying valley into darkness. The two men stood together in the deepening gloom.

"You will not be persuaded?"

"No."

"Then, allow me to do this one thing for you."

"What?"

The man turned and waved his hand over the younger man's face. In a moment, the younger man froze, his eyes widening.

"If I cannot force you to leave this valley, I will ensure that your soul cannot be stolen as was your father's. Porphyrogene, your soul is your own. No man, nor beast, nor demon can take it from you. I endow you with the power to escape your body should one take possession of it. You will not die with your body. Your soul will escape the power of the evil one who would take it. The good of this land will live on in your soul."

Then, he waved his hand in front of the man's face once more.

"What will you do for me?"

"Wish you well."

The man smiled and the two embraced.

"May your wishes become truth."

They separated, and the older man knew that his wishes would only become lies. He left the valley. His presence would only endanger a wider area and both of them knew it.

When he reached the end of the valley, he looked back at the palace, his eyes full of tears. He could see the movement within the palace and when the burst of power washed over him, he knew what the result was. He prayed that his blessing had indeed saved the soul of the heir.

Head bowed, he spoke a last few words.

" _Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow  
_ _Shall dawn upon him desolate!"_

Then, he left the lost valley behind.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _Today..._

"Boy, this place looks creepy," Tony said. "I vote that we just pretend that we know there's nothing to find in the house and move on."

Tim looked through the windshield. The house did look creepy. It was one of those huge mansions that had been forgotten and overgrown. It was shrouded by trees that were in varying stages of dying, meaning that the sun only filtered through in a few places. The house itself had decayed until the front of it looked like an evil face staring down at them. It was tempting to go along with Tony's joking suggestion, but both of them knew that wasn't going to happen.

"If you want to do that, I'll let _you_ tell Gibbs that the big, bad house scared you."

Tony grimaced. "No. We both know that's not going to work. Let's just get this over with."

Tim smiled and they both got out of the car.

"Seriously, though," Tim said as they approached the front door, "we should be careful about the floors and walls. There could be rotted out joists and boards. We don't want to fall into the crawl space or through the ceiling."

"Yeah." Tony paused as they got to the steps. "I vote that we bring in a bulldozer, knock the house down and let Abby go through the debris!"

"Tempting, but _we'd_ probably have to go through the debris and Abby would just get to process what we found."

"True. Okay, then. I guess we'll go inside."

Tim chuckled and they carefully walked up the three steps to the front door. The porch creaked, but held.

"This was probably a beautiful house a hundred years ago. I wonder why it was abandoned."

"Too far from DC to be appealing to anyone, too expensive to maintain. Maybe the last owner died without any family and no one knew about it," Tony said. "Lots of possibilities."

"Yeah."

They tried the front door. It wasn't locked. No big surprise there. When they stepped inside, it was dark and dingy. Also no big surprise. A few pieces of rotting furniture graced the rooms but it was otherwise empty.

"I'm glad it's sunny today. We'd have to have flashlights to walk through this place during a rainstorm," Tim said.

"And we'd probably be drenched. I'll bet the roof is shot."

Tim nodded.

"Well, where do you want to start?"

"Let's just clear the house, first. Make sure there aren't any squatters. Then, we can start searching. I doubt that we're going to find any clues about what happened to Naughton around here."

"Yeah, but this is the last area where he was definitely seen."

"A year ago. Which probably means that he's left the country with all the money, not that he's hiding out in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere."

Tim agreed but they went room by room, checking for any unofficial residents. Beyond a number of mice (both living and dead), one stray dog, and more bugs than they could count, there was nothing.

The dog started following them as they walked through. It was probably a mutt, not too big, and it seemed tame enough, but it was rather smelly.

"Looking for a new owner?" Tim asked the dog.

"You looking for a new dog?" Tony retorted.

"Maybe. It's been about a year since Jethro died. I got used to having a dog. Maybe I'd like to have one that I actually chose."

"I thought you liked Jethro."

"I did, but I didn't like the name, and I didn't like how I got him."

"So instead, you'll enjoy having a smelly, dirty, infected mutt?"

Tim laughed. "Hey, at least, I'd get to name him myself."

"Better you than me."

"Obviously. He's following _me_ , not you."

Tony laughed, too.

"Well, the house is clear of anything human. I guess we can start looking. Don't get distracted by Fido, there."

"I won't. I'll start upstairs and work my way down. You start down and work your way up."

"Sounds good. Don't fall through the floor."

"I won't."

Tim walked up the stairs with the dog following behind him. He paused and looked down on it. Sure, it was mangy and dirty, but it seemed to have a good nature to it, and he'd been genuinely sad when Jethro had died the year before. However, he'd been old and the vet had said that he was really old in dog years. He'd been waiting for the right time to get a new dog and here was a new dog. Then, Tim smiled as he looked down.

Well, here was a _used_ dog that might just be what he was looking for.

"What do you think?" he asked. "You want to come with me when we're done?"

The dog barked at him once and wagged its tail.

"Okay. I'll persuade Tony to let you in the car. For now, you can come with me."

Tim began going through each room on the second floor, the dog on his heels the whole time.

Then, at the end of the hall, Tim stopped for a minute. He could have sworn he saw something moving. He froze, but the movement stopped. He took another step and saw movement again.

Then, he laughed at himself.

"It's a mirror," he said aloud. "A mirror at the end of the hall. Man, I scared myself for a second."

He started down the hall, even though the movement was still a little unnerving. It was just dim enough that he couldn't discern his own features.

Suddenly, there was a crashing sound from downstairs. The dog was startled by the noise and ran off.

"Tony! You okay?" Tim called.

"Fine!" came the faint reply. "I just found a rotten floorboard. No problem!"

"You sure?"

"Positive!"

"Okay!"

Tim walked to the mirror and looked at it for a moment. It was extremely ornate and didn't really fit into the decor of the rest of the house. It looked like something more appropriate for a castle.

He considered why it might be in this particular spot, but then, shook his head and turned to go into the master bedroom.

But he saw something out of the corner of his eye just as he turned. He looked at the mirror again. Then, he looked back down the hall. Then, he looked back at the mirror.

"What in the world–?"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony freed his foot from the floor and grimaced. Thankfully, it was only one board, not any of the others around it. He heard the click of paws. He looked over and saw the dog run out of the house.

"Guess he didn't like you so much after all, McGee," Tony said softly with a grin.

He continued on his way, but then, there was the sound of breaking glass from upstairs.

"McGee? You okay?"

There was no reply.

"McGee!"

Then, there was an inarticulate shout.

Without wasting any more time, Tony ran up the stairs and looked around.

"Tim!"

Down at the end of the hall, Tim was lying on the ground, covered in shattered pieces of the mirror.

"Tim!"

Tony ran over and knelt down beside him.

Tim's eyes fluttered open and, for just a second, they looked strange, but then, they were normal and Tony didn't bother with worrying about that.

"Tim, can you hear me?"

"Y-Yeah."

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Tim said, looking confused.

There weren't any cuts on him from the mirror, strangely enough. Tim started to sit up.

"Hey, wait a minute. The glass might cut you."

"Glass?"

Tim looked at himself.

"The mirror."

"Yeah. Did it fall on you?"

"I don't know. I don't remember. It was..." Tim shook his head. "I don't know."

Tony cleared the glass away as best he could, and then, he helped Tim stand. He seemed a little off-balance, but otherwise, okay.

"I think you'd better be done, today."

"I guess I can't say no. Did you see where the dog went?"

"Ran off."

"Too bad."

"Yeah, I guess you'll have to find a new dog somewhere else."

Tony helped Tim down the stairs and out to the car. Tim seemed happy to sit and not have to move around which told Tony that he was really out of it.

He walked around to the driver's side and was about to get in when the stray dog ran up and whined at him.

"Oh, so you want to come with us, do you?"

The dog jumped around a little and barked. Tony looked back at Tim and then at the dog. He grimaced and then opened the back car door.

"Fine, get in."

The dog jumped around a little bit more and then jumped into the car.

"You'd better pay to have this car cleaned, Tim. This is _your_ dog, you know."

Tim smiled.

"I'm okay with that."

Tony called Gibbs and then, with his permission, they headed back to DC. Tim was basically back to normal by the time they got back to NCIS. He insisted that he didn't need to be checked out by a doctor. It was just a little knock and he would go home and have a good rest. Gibbs insisted that Tim get checked out by Ducky, at least, and he didn't let Tim drive home, but after that, he had to admit that Tim did seem fine.

They hadn't found anything in their case, but since it was a cold case, it was okay. Not great, but the time frame wasn't urgent.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim opened the door and gestured.

"Okay, come on in." The dog ambled in beside Tim. "First things, first. You are in desperate need of a bath."

The dog whined at him.

"No arguments, pooch. You stink."

Tim ushered the dog into the bathroom and had a brief battle to get him in, but remembering Jethro's dislike of baths on occasion, Tim knew what to do, and this dog was nowhere near as large as Jethro.

After cleaning him up, Tim could say that, although he definitely needed a trim, this was a pretty good-looking dog. He was rather wrinkled with a flat face, and his fur was dark, almost black was a few lighter splotches. A unique-looking dog, nothing he'd ever seen before. He wasn't huge, by any means, but he also wasn't tiny.

Tim had got Tony to stop and get some dog food, so he was able to feed the dog.

He was happy to get out Jethro's old dishes and set them up in the kitchen. What would Delilah think of this? Right now, he didn't care. He was just happy to have a dog again. He had wanted a dog before Abby had forced Jethro on him. He hadn't wanted to get a dog instantly after Jethro died, and he felt that the right dog would find him. Maybe, it now had.

"All right," he said, as he watched the dog eat. "We need to decide what I'm going to call you and how I'm going to train you to answer to it."

The dog looked at him, whuffled a little and then went back to eating. Tim smiled.

As he watched the dog, he had a strange feeling wash over him. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but he felt a sudden chill. The dog stopped eating and trotted over to him. He got up on his hind legs and stared deeply into Tim's eyes. Then, with that wrinkled, doggy face in his, a name come into his mind. Or rather a word. _Maybe_ a word. He would never had considered it a _name_ for anyone, especially not a dog.

"Vardr," he said, softly. "Why does that seem like a good name for you? I don't even know what that is."

The dog... Vardr, licked his face and then went back to his food. Tim decided to try an experiment.

"Vardr," he said.

The dog looked up from the food dish.

"No way," Tim said. "I _know_ it can't be that easy. I had a dog before."

The dog, Vardr, went back to eating.

Tim shook his head and decided to find out the breed of his new dog. He would get it thoroughly checked at a vet tomorrow, but he was curious. So he got on his computer and started searching. After a few minutes, he found the Shar Pei, but the pictures didn't look exactly like this dog and the Shar Pei was a rare breed. This was probably a mutt of some kind which would make sense for a stray. Maybe the breeding had been accidental and they'd abandoned the puppies somewhere? Tim wasn't an expert on dog breeding or on dogs themselves, but he could see some people being so obsessed with a pure pedigree that they wouldn't want a mutt. Personally, Tim thought mutts were usually the better dogs anyway. Certainly, their health seemed better and they lived longer lives.

"Well, Vardr..." Tim paused, and again, Vardr looked up. "Why in the world would that be your name? It sounds like something made up and the odds of me coming up with the same made-up word as another random person are astronomically low."

Still, it seemed that he had, indeed, hit upon a name the dog would acknowledge. He didn't mind it so much but it just seemed weird.

"Okay, I guess you're Vardr, then. Now, there are rules to living here. I am in charge, and you will not chew my shoes or sleep on my bed. Right?"

Vardr looked at him, sniffed and looked thoroughly unimpressed. Tim smiled.

"Yep. That's what I thought. Oh, and one more thing, no piddling inside. If you need a bathroom break, you need to let me know. I don't want to be cleaning up after you, and convincing Delilah that this is a good idea will be hard if you start making the place smell bad. Got it?"

Vardr whined a little.

"Well, we've got a week to get all this figured out. That's when she'll be back. Okay?"

Vardr ambled over to the door and scratched at it.

"Okay, now, you're weirding me out. You need to go out?"

Another whine.

"Okay. Well, let's go."

Tim got a leash and a collar and put it around Vardr's neck. Then, he took him out. Vardr did his business and then seemed to be ready to go back in. Maybe this wasn't just a stray, after all.

That would mean that someone might be looking for him. It was too bad, but he'd have to put up a notice about it. If this dog did indeed have an owner, it wouldn't be right to keep him.

"Well, Vardr, I'll be happy to keep you as long as I can, but if someone is missing you, I don't want to keep you away from them. We'll just play it by ear, okay?"

Vardr barked at him once and then walked over to a chair and jumped on it.

"Oh, no. Not on the furniture. I don't have Jethro's dog bed anymore, but I can get you a spare blanket to sleep on, for now."

Tim went searching and did find an old blanket in the closet. He folded it so that there would be some padding and then he ushered Vardr off the chair and over to the blanket.

"That's your bed until I figure out something better. The blanket, not the chair. Got it?"

Vardr stepped onto the blanket, turned around in a circle a couple of times and then yawned and settled down on it. Tim smiled the dog's eyes closed. He hoped he could keep the dog, but even if he couldn't, it was definitely time to get a new one.

After watching the dog sleep for a few minutes, Tim decided it was time for him to get some sleep, too. He ate some dinner, changed into sweats and was asleep before he'd been lying down for a minute.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _He was in a boat, floating down a river. The river was wide, the water smooth as glass. He didn't know the destination, but he could sense that he was getting closer._

 _For some reason, that idea filled him with fear, not anticipation. He was terrified of where he was going to end up. He knew, somehow, that this would not be a pleasant destination._

 _He sat in the boat for a long time, floating right in the center, no variation. He had no oar, no rudder. Nothing to steer the boat. He looked up and saw the soaring cliffs above him on either side. It appeared that the river was cut straight through a mountain._

 _...but to what destination?_

 _He leaned over the boat, wanting to look into the water, but fearing what it might show him._

 _He saw his own reflection, as if he was looking into a mirror._

 _Then, his reflection snarled and sprang for him, hands reaching out like claws and..._

Tim came awake, sitting up and breathing heavily.

That had been a vivid nightmare.

"Wow," he said. "Never had a dream like that before."

He wiped at his forehead and was surprised to find perspiration there. In fact, he felt really hot. He must have been tossing and turning before he woke up.

Then, he heard the click of paws on the floor and he smiled as Vardr came into the room and leapt up onto the bed. He trotted across the bed over to Tim and started licking his face.

"Hey! Calm down there, Vardr," Tim said. "I don't need a doggy bath. I can shower on my own."

Vardr sat back on his haunches and looked at Tim intently.

"Yes?"

Then, Vardr barked at him and jumped off the bed. Tim got up and went into the bathroom. He got ready for the day, fed and walked Vardr and then headed to the vet. He'd made arrangements to have a complete checkup and then to board him for the day.

As he headed to work, Tim thought about how much he liked having Vardr there and he hoped that there was no owner. Vardr was definitely growing on him.

 _Of course, I need to tell Delilah about it...before she comes home and sees him._

Tim couldn't help but smile sheepishly. It had been impulsive, he knew, but he hoped that Delilah would see how much Tim was enjoying having a dog again. She'd been fairly noncommittal about it, thus far.

He parked and went into work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony glanced over at Tim and noticed that he was just staring at his monitor with a blank expression on his face.

"Tim?"

No response. Tony may as well not have spoken. This was normal when Tim got really involved in his work, but in this case, he wasn't even doing anything.

"Tim!"

Still nothing.

Tony got up and walked over, pleased to have the chance to give a head slap. He didn't have justification for it very often.

However, as soon as he neared Tim's desk, Tim jolted like he was just coming out of a dream or something and looked up at Tony.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I might ask you the same question. You were staring at your computer screen as if you were going to try melding with it."

Tim laughed. "Was I? I must have zoned out."

"The dog keep you up?"

"No, I slept like a log," Tim said. "What did you want?"

"To wake you up," Tony said.

"You were going to head slap me, weren't you," Tim accused.

"No! Never!"

"Yeah, right."

"So are you keeping him?" Tony asked, changing the subject.

Tim raised an eyebrow at him, but he answered the question.

"As long as he doesn't have an owner and Delilah doesn't mind."

"You haven't told her yet?"

"Tony, I was a little loopy yesterday and she's back in Dubai. I couldn't call her until today anyway."

"But did you?"

"Not yet, but I will."

"Uh-huh?"

Tim rolled his eyes and Tony grinned mischievously.

"Should I call her for you?"

"No."

"Well, then, what are you going to name him?"

Tim looked away and seemed a little embarrassed, which was a weird reaction to a normal question.

"Hey, you said that the good thing was that you got to choose his name."

"Well, you're going to think it sounds dumb."

"Of course, I will. Did you pick Jethro the Second?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "No."

"Then, what?"

"I... well, I chose Vardr."

"You chose what?"

"Vardr."

"So you named him after a dwarf or something? Man, you need to get out more. Stop reading Tolkien and get some fresh air."

Tim laughed a little and Tony almost thought he looked relieved. That was another strange reaction, but oh, well.

"It just seemed to fit is all."

"Right. I'll never understand you geeks."

"That's all right with me."

"Your little exclusive club, right?"

"Exactly."

Tony walked back to his desk and sat down to work. Perhaps out of some minor concern after Tim's tumble the day before, Gibbs had left the two of them at NCIS while he and Ellie did some more looking around at the places Naughton had been seen in the hopes of recovering the money he'd taken at least. It wasn't exciting, but it meant that they also went home on time.

"You going to tell Delilah?" Tony called after Tim as they left.

"Stop pestering me, Tony!"

"I'll tell her if you don't!"

"Stay out of it!"

Tony laughed.

"She'll make you get rid of the dog when you tell her its name!"

"Go home, Tony!" Tim shouted from his car.

Having successfully teased Tim, Tony did just that.

...but when he got home, he tried looking up Vardr. The problem was that he didn't even know how it was supposed to be spelled and he didn't get any real hits, just Google trying to tell him that he was really wanting to search for Darth Vader instead. He might have thought that was a possibility, but Tim's pronunciation had been quite clear.

"Did he just make it up or is it some obscure fantasy character?" Tony wondered aloud, but then, it wasn't really that important. So he shut down his computer and settled in for a movie night.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim picked up Vardr from the vet with a clean bill of health, updated shots, a trim and a guess of a mix of Shar Pei and a lab at the least, but given the size and the fact that he seemed to be fully grown, the vet guessed that there must be something more in the mix, maybe a boxer or something like that. He couldn't be more sure than that, but it wasn't a problem to Tim. He was just glad that Vardr was in good condition.

He took the dog home and fed and walked him. Then, he took a picture of the dog and filled out the form to report him to the Humane Society. He submitted it, hoping that he wouldn't have anyone claiming him.

Then, he waited. Delilah was going to be calling early in her morning and late in his evening. They'd already arranged it, so he had decided to wait until she called to tell her about Vardr. However, he was ready to send her a picture of the dog if she asked for it. Currently, Vardr was lying contentedly on the blanket Tim had provided. When Tim sat down on the couch with a tired whoosh, he got up, padded over and jumped up on the couch. He then placed his head in Tim's lap and looked up at him with those irresistible doggy eyes.

"Don't do that, Vardr," Tim said. "I already want to keep you."

Finally, the phone rang and he answered it before it stopped ringing the first time.

"Delilah!"

" _Wow, Tim. Not even letting the phone finish ringing? You must miss me,"_ she said, sounding amused.

"I always miss you."

" _Even when I'm there?"_ she asked, teasing.

"Ha, ha. Are you still getting back this week?"

Delilah sighed. _"No. Everything is moving more slowly than it was supposed to. They're now saying two weeks."_

"Really? Well, that sucks."

" _I know. You know the government. They can't be efficient about anything. Everything takes twice as long or costs twice as much to get done. Or both."_

"Well, since you're not going to be back for a little while..."

" _What?"_

"I have something to tell you."

" _What have you done now, Tim?"_

"Now? What do you mean, _now_?" Tim asked, although he was smiling.

" _The last time you had something to tell me was when you helpfully tried to get my laundry done and ruined three of my shirts."_

"Well, I haven't ruined anything...this time," Tim said.

" _What is it?"_

"You know how I've been wanting to get another dog?"

" _You bought a dog without letting me even help pick it out?"_

"No."

" _Then, what?"_

"The dog picked me," Tim said.

Vardr barked once at him.

"Did you hear that?" Tim said, with a smile at the dog.

" _What do you mean the dog picked you?"_

"Tony and I were at an abandoned house out in Virginia yesterday, and he was there."

" _You took a stray dog from a crime scene?"_

"Not a crime scene. It's a cold case. We were just tracking down a couple of leads."

" _But you picked up a random stray dog?"_

"Yes," Tim said. "He was dirty and stuff, but he's been really well-behaved. He seems to be house trained, and the vet said he was in good health. I've cleaned him up and he's a pretty good looking dog. Wait, I'll show you." Tim gestured to Vardr. "Okay, Vardr, look your best!" He snapped a picture and sent it to Delilah.

" _He's...wrinkly,"_ she said.

"Probably part Shar Pei, the vet said."

" _Well, he's not ugly, but he's the strangest looking dog I've ever seen...but Tim, what if he belongs to someone?"_

"I've thought of that. I reported him to the Humane Society, gave a description and picture. If someone claims him, I'll definitely give him back."

" _You've thought this through, I guess. So you probably picked a name, too?"_

"Vardr," Tim said.

" _What's that?"_

"Vardr. It just seemed right," Tim said, hoping to avoid the conversation of _why_ something that sounded made up was _right_. Thankfully, Delilah's focus wasn't really on the name.

" _Well, I'm not exactly thrilled that you did this while I was gone and couldn't make you think twice about it, but I'm not opposed."_

That was the best he could expect right now, Tim knew. Delilah hadn't _hated_ the idea of a new dog, but she hadn't really been enthused. Hopefully, Vardr would win her over, just like he'd won Tim over. That would best be attempted in person, not over the phone, or even over Skype.

"You'll like him. I promise."

" _And if I don't?"_ she asked, although he could hear the smile in her voice.

"You can say 'I told you so,'" Tim said.

" _That's all?"_

"Isn't that enough?"

" _Maybe. I'll think about it."_

"I'll take that."

" _Good. Now, how have things been going for you?"_

"Cold cases, right now," Tim said, choosing not to mention his recent minor injury. If she wasn't going to be back for a couple of weeks, she wouldn't even notice. He felt fine now, and there had been no aftereffects. "Tony and I will be working on one for the next few days. Someone claimed to have seen a guy who disappeared a year ago. We're checking it out, but I don't think Gibbs thinks there's anything to it."

Tim and Delilah talked for another half an hour, but then, she had to get to work and Tim had to get to bed. He didn't tell her, but he spaced out a few times during their conversation and didn't remember what had been said by either one of them. She didn't seem to notice, so he counted that as a good thing. He must be really tired.

"Delilah, I'm starting to fall asleep. I've got to get to bed before I start drooling on my phone," he said.

" _I should get to work anyway. Sleep well with your new guard dog."_

"I don't need a guard dog. Just a dog," Tim said.

" _Whatever. Love you."_

"Love you, too. Good night...or morning...or whatever."

" _Good night, Tim."_

They both hung up and Tim went to bed.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 _He was closer to his final destination. The river was still glassy, but there were rocks sticking up out of the water, like daggers splitting the water away. No white water, just those rocks attacking the sky._

 _He could see that the river was turning around a sharp corner. He didn't want to see what was around that corner. He didn't want to know what he was coming to. He wanted to be able to get away, but he couldn't. Somehow, there was no option of getting out of the boat. He just had to sit there and wait, getting more and more afraid of what was coming._

 _Then, he heard something. What was that sound? Where was it coming from?_

 _An inhuman shriek pierced the air. He looked up and saw something high above him. It was strangely familiar. What was it?_

 _Before he could analyze it more, there was a loud bark._

 _Then, another one._

 _His face was wet._

Tim opened his eyes and found himself staring at Vardr who was licking his face with a long black tongue and whining.

"Hey! Vardr, stop!"

He sat up and forced Vardr back.

"Is this going to be a daily thing? You licking my face?"

Vardr licked at his face again.

"Okay. I'm up. Give me a chance to get ready for the day. I don't mind that you woke me up, though. I'm not sure I'm enjoying these dreams. I've never had one where I actually seem to make progress with each night."

Tim sat on the bed and started trying to remember all the details of his dream. He closed his eyes and was thinking more and more about it. Then, a strange feeling washed over him again. It was a kind of disconnection, as if he was temporarily not in control of his own body.

He heard a sharp bark which kind of broke through the feeling. He opened his eyes and Vardr was there, whining a little.

"Hey, I'm awake. No worries, Vardr. I'm getting up."

Tim did get up, but he felt hot and sweaty again, just like the day before. Still, by the time he'd showered and got dressed, he felt normal.

He went to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim hadn't moved from his desk in probably two hours. Tony knew that they were both supposed to be working, but Tim would usually _talk_ a little bit.

He looked a lot like the day before.

"Tim!"

Again, no response, just like before.

"Tim! Wake up!"

Still nothing.

This was weird, not funny. Tony got up and walked over. Tim was just sitting there, staring at his computer, although Tony could now see that his lips were moving just a little bit.

Tony shook Tim firmly.

"Tim!"

Tim suddenly inhaled sharply and looked around, as if searching for something.

"Tim, are you okay?"

He turned toward Tony.

"Uh...what?" Tim asked.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. I think... Yeah...yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You seem a little weird."

"I don't know..." Tim looked at his computer and then around the bullpen. His voice was distant. "It's like everything is just... It should look different, like there's something kind of..." Then, he closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, he looked almost normal. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep or something."

"Did you not sleep well last night?"

"I slept fine. Vardr did wake me up early, and I had a weird dream."

"About what?"

"Oh, just sailing in a boat on a river, only I didn't want to get to wherever I was going."

"Did you throw up?" Tony asked, feeling better now that Tim was acting like a normal human being.

Tim smiled. "No. I didn't. I don't get motion sickness when I'm dreaming. Actually, the water was like glass. Just like... glass..." He seemed to go a little weird again. "And those...red... and..." He shook himself again. "I'm just out of it, today."

"You know...maybe we should have got you checked out at a hospital before. This doesn't seem normal, McGee."

"No, Tony. I'm fine. Just a little off kilter, today. I stayed up late to talk to Delilah and then weird dreams, woke up early. I'm just off balance. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Tony didn't like showing so much concern, but he didn't like the way Tim was acting. In fact, he made a mental note to talk to Gibbs about it...when Tim wasn't around.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry. Everything is fine, except that we're not finding anything."

"Well, if you would stop just staring at your computer for hours on end, we might make some progress," Tony said, forcing a smile.

"Maybe you're right."

"I'm going to go and check with Abby, see if she found anything."

"Okay. I'll run the credit cards...for the fourth time."

"Sounds good."

Tony left, but he didn't go to Abby's lab. Ellie was in Abby's lab and he didn't need to talk to Ellie. He knew that Gibbs would likely be finishing up with Ducky and he wanted to catch him before he came back up.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

 _I'm not fine,_ Tim thought to himself. _Why did I say I was fine? I'm not fine. I feel hot and uncomfortable and..._

Even while he thought it, though, there was something pushing all those concerns away. Something inside him that seemed to have free rein in his mind. He had wanted to tell Tony about the strange feeling, but he couldn't.

 _Get back to work. You have work to do._

Tim looked around, wondering where that voice had come from. It wasn't his own thoughts. It wasn't his own voice. What was that?

 _Work. You need to work._

No one was nearby, but he did need to get work done. There was work to do.

Suddenly, that was the important thing. So he got back to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs was just coming out of Autopsy when Tony got down there.

"Boss!"

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I need to talk to you. About McGee."

Predictably, Gibbs said nothing, but he gestured for Tony to walk back to the elevator. They both got on and it began to rise. However, Gibbs stopped it quickly.

"What?"

"Tim's acting weird. He was just staring at his computer for about two hours without doing anything. When I tried to say something to him, he didn't hear me. When I shook him, it was like he was waking up, but he kept drifting off again. He says he's fine, but something seems really off to me."

"He tired?"

"He says he didn't get enough sleep last night."

"You think there's something wrong?"

"I don't know. I just know that it's weird."

Gibbs said nothing for a few seconds, and Tony knew he was thinking about it. Best to let him make that decision.

Then, he turned on the elevator and sent it up the rest of the way. When they got to the bullpen, Tim was working. And he _was_ working, running the credit card searches he had said he was going to run.

"McGee!" Gibbs said.

Tim looked up at him.

"Yeah, Boss?"

Gibbs paused for just long enough. Tim's expression got a bit worried.

"Something wrong?"

"You feeling all right?"

Tim's gaze slid from Gibbs to Tony and then back again.

"Yeah. Just didn't have the best night's sleep. That's all."

The thing was, though, while the expression was normal, Tim's posture wasn't. Tony couldn't explain to himself what it was, but something seemed wrong, almost as if Tim had forgotten how to sit or something. He really wanted to ask if Gibbs had noticed, but he didn't want to draw attention to it.

"Okay."

Then, Gibbs sat down at his desk and started working, which meant that Tim couldn't ask Tony about what he'd said to Gibbs. In a way, Tony was relieved because he wasn't sure if he was just going a little crazy himself or if he was really onto something.

He sat down at his own desk. Tim looked at him blankly for a second and then resumed his work.

For the next couple of hours, there was nothing but awkward silence.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs watched Tim carefully during the rest of the day, and he could see that strangeness. It was hard to put a definite label on it, but Tim wasn't quite acting like himself. He debated about whether or not it would be a good idea to tell Tim to go to a doctor and get a CAT scan or MRI or something. Ducky hadn't thought it was necessary. He just had suggested that Tim take it easy for the next few days. That was why they were still working on this cold case. Gibbs had asked Vance to let Lovitz take lead for the next few days and they'd do the cold case since they had started the work on it anyway.

There was nothing to indicate any real physical weakness, but there was something just not quite right.

Finally, at six, he looked at Tim.

"All right. Enough for tonight. Go home."

Tony and Ellie both looked surprised. It was earlier than they usually left. Tim seemed aware of why. He looked at Gibbs and nodded.

"You sure about that, Boss?" Tony asked.

"You want to stay all night, DiNozzo?"

"No!" Ellie said, emphatically. "How much longer are we going to keep working on this case, Gibbs? It just seems like one dead end after another."

"As long as we need to," Gibbs said.

"Then, I'm definitely ready to go home."

She grabbed her stuff and headed out.

"McGee?" Gibbs said.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"You feel sick, don't come in."

"I hear you, Boss," Tim said.

Then, he grabbed his bag and left. Tony hesitated just long enough for Tim to leave.

"Boss?" he asked.

"Check on him."

Tony nodded and ran for the stairs so that he could beat Tim down.

After he was gone, Gibbs leaned back and thought about it. Was there really something wrong with Tim or was it just, as he had told Tony, that he didn't get enough sleep and was a little off? He sat up again.

If Tim was still acting even the slightest bit strange tomorrow, Gibbs would _force_ him to get a checkup.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Tim! Wait up!" Tony called.

Thankfully, Tim did and when Tony caught up to him, he didn't look angry, just a little nonplussed.

"Tony, what's going on?"

"I'm just checking on you."

"Am I really acting that strange?" Tim asked.

"Not right now. Maybe I'm just imagining things. You were really weird this afternoon."

"Are you going to start following me home?" Tim asked, smiling a little.

"Should I?" Tony asked, smiling, too.

"No. I've got Vardr. He'll take care of me."

"No offense to your new little friend, McGee, but I don't think he'd be up to saving you if you were in trouble."

"You never know. Maybe he has some surprises."

"Seriously, though, if you _are_ feeling strange..."

"I'll tell you. I promise."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. I'll admit that I'm hoping for a good night's sleep tonight. So I'm not perfect, but I'm definitely okay."

"And if you're _not_ okay, you'll tell someone."

"Yes."

"Okay, then. I'll let you go home."

"Thanks," Tim said. He smiled and then made a strange gesture with his hand.

It was almost like the gesture Tony had seen people make at rock concerts, but not quite the same.

But then, Tony suddenly felt like he had to get going. Well, Tim had promised to tell him if something was wrong. That would have to be good enough.

"See you tomorrow, Tim," he said.

"Bye, Tony." He made that same strange gesture again.

Tony left, feeling like he really needed to get going. It was only when he was on his way home that he realized how strange that feeling had been. ...but, oh, well. He'd been feeling awkward about confronting Tim anyway. Everything would be fine.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

 _He let the human's hand down and forced him to walk to his car and drive. The body was almost weakened enough. It would take perhaps one more night to solidify his grip. It would have been enough the night before, but the human's dog had interrupted at a crucial moment. Human bodies also had unexpected defenses, things he had not remembered. It had been so long._

 _No matter. He would succeed. He_ always _succeeded at taking possession._

 _One more night. He would get the human there._

 _He hid himself deep inside the mind, letting the human have control once more. The continual shifting of who ruled in the body left the human off balance and weak. Uncertain of what was going on. He could not remember to fight when he could not remember that there was a reason for fighting._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim walked into his apartment with no memory of his drive home. In fact... he could only vaguely remember walking out of NCIS at all.

"I must be more tired than I thought I was, Vardr," he said, absently. "I'm starting to forget things."

He walked over to his couch and sat down. Vardr ran over and jumped up beside him. He started licking Tim's face again.

"Hey. Enough of that. Can we be quick outside tonight? I want to eat something and go to bed."

Vardr barked once and let Tim take him out. He didn't linger but let them go back in. Tim ate some leftovers, fed Vardr and then changed and climbed into bed. He felt really worn out by the day, although there was no reason to be. He hadn't done anything really active.

There was nothing to keep him from having a nice long sleep and being back to normal in the morning.

He rolled over and started to drift off when suddenly he had doggy breath in his face. He opened his eyes. Vardr was right there in his face.

"Hey!" he said with irritation. "No getting on my bed. You have your bed and I have mine. You don't get up here unless I let you. I'm really tired. No playing tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

Vardr whined at him.

"No. Down."

Tim could tell Vardr was reluctant, but he knew that he had to be firm to set the right boundaries. Delilah would never warm to the idea of having a dog in the house again if he couldn't be sure that Vardr would stay off the bed unless specifically allowed up.

Finally, Vardr got down, but he whined a couple of times.

"No, Vardr. You have your own bed."

He got on it and Tim lay down again. He did feel kind of bad about that, but he really needed to get to sleep. He closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

 _Failure. How else could he see this? It was failure._

 _The dog shifted around and he sensed its distress. He sighed inwardly and let out some positive feelings. It wasn't the dog's fault. Really, it had been too late from the moment those men had stepped into the house._

 _He didn't like controlling another living being anyway. It felt too much like what he was trying to prevent. Most of the time, he just used them as vehicles for travel._

 _Maybe it was time to leave the animal and try for a frontal assault?_

 _But no. He strongly believed in right times for things. This did not feel like the right time. When would that right time be? He didn't know, but he did know that the dog felt the same kind of concern for his new master that he did. Yes, it was simpler, but there had been an instant attachment that was completely separate from his own need to be nearby. The human had felt it as well. In fact, this dog seemed to be somehow more aware than any other animal he had chosen before. It was almost like it_ knew _that there was a problem. If only he could stop what was coming to this human._

 _Another good man who would be destroyed by this evil thing._

 _The dog stirred and he soothed it. No need for the dog to be unsettled by something he could not prevent. He could tell that the control was almost complete. He would have to stay close by without letting the evil thing know._

 _He thought about it._

 _Yes. Tomorrow, he would persuade the dog to go along with the man. Somehow, he would manage it._

 _With that, he settled down and tried to wait patiently._

 _Nights were always so long._


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 _The boat picked up speed. It swerved around each obstacle that came up in its path._

 _He was holding on for dear life, now, the fear increasing to the point of terror._

 _Suddenly, the boat reached the corner and spun in circles as the current carried it around. He was spinning so fast that he couldn't see anything at all._

 _Then, as if a giant hand had reached down from heaven (or up from Hell?), the boat stopped spinning and he was facing his destination. The narrow channel had opened up into a wide valley that would have been beautiful if it hadn't been so dead._

 _It was a palace. A large palace with turrets. From each turret flew a tattered flag. In the windows, red light reflected shapes moving around. Constant, frantic motion._

 _The palace loomed over him and the boat was lifted out of the water by some unseen power. His terror was intense, but there was no escape._

 _Suddenly, he was in a large room. At one end was a throne._

 _Someone was seated on that throne._

 _Something was seated on that throne._

 _It stood and so did he._

 _It walked down from the dais and he walked toward it._

 _Closer and closer._

 _He couldn't turn away._

 _He couldn't escape._

 _Closer and closer._

 _The thing was human in shape, but that was where the similarity ended._

 _As he stared, he realized that he had seen it once before._

 _In the mirror._

" _Too late to know that, now," it said. "You are MINE!"_

 _And it dove at him in a motion so quick that he couldn't even react._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He sat up in the bed and inhaled.

It felt good to have a body to control again. Necessary? No. Pleasurable? Oh, yes.

He felt the lips curl into a smile in reaction to his pleasure and he let the tongue pass over the teeth as he savored another breath.

The only thing better than this would be the destruction he would mete out on all around him. Yes, it would be good. The palace would rise and he would have a place from which to rule until all around him was destroyed with this body dying last of all. Then, off to find another. Patiently wait until the next time.

Yes.

He blinked his eyes as he looked around, adjusting to this human's vision. He got out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, letting the body's natural instincts carry him through. He paused at the mirror and looked at himself.

Not a hideous form. Not, perhaps, what he would normally have chosen for himself, but it would suffice. It was strong. It had put up a fight. Even now, the body was trying to drive him out, but he had the power to keep that from happening.

Then, he noticed that the eyes had changed. His own red fire was flickering in eyes that were supposed to be green. He blinked twice more and the green reappeared. He had to get into the right space before he could allow his triumph to be known.

He got ready for a day that would be full and pleasant.

Well, it would be pleasant for _him_. No one else would enjoy this day.

"Yessss," he said, letting the sibilant draw out as he tested the voice. "This day will be a good day."

He remembered that the body needed food and so he fed it. Then, after dressing in the appropriate clothing, he left the apartment. As he reached the car that the human drove, he looked down and saw the dog the human had taken.

"What are you doing with me?" he asked it.

The dog just barked once. No sense of fear or hate. The dog had not accompanied the human before. However, it was a new acquisition and he was reluctant to search through the human's memories. It would strengthen the resistance. Best to let the dog come and not worry about whether or not it should be there. It would be destroyed with everything else when the palace rose.

He got in his car and the dog did as well. He drove to work and acted as the human. He wasn't perfect at it, but no matter. It would be a moot point in just a few hours. As soon as he was sure of his strength.

The concentration required to interact with the other humans relatively normally distracted him and he didn't notice where the dog went, but he didn't see it and it didn't matter.

"Morning, McGee," said the one called Tony. "Feeling all right?"

"Fine. Had a good night's sleep this time."

"You sound better than yesterday."

"Vardr tried to sleep with me, but I kept him out," he said, smiling as he knew the human would smile.

"Sleeping with your dog, huh? I think that's illegal."

"I think you're disgusting, Tony," said the one called Ellie. "Glad you're looking better, Tim. I was getting a little worried, myself."

"No reason to worry. I just didn't get enough sleep."

The important one, the one called Gibbs, walked in and ordered them all to work. He did so, and for the first few hours, everything was exactly as he had expected it to be. Everyone stopped looking at him in concern. Everyone assumed it was all normal.

But then, he felt an unexpected resistance from the body. He would reveal himself too soon if they saw his struggle, now. Keeping an unconcerned expression on his face, he got up, as if to go to the men's room, but as soon as he was out of sight, he headed for the stairs. He knew that very few people used the stairs, especially if he went all the way down to the basement. No one would be there and he could get the final control of the body without witnesses.

Sweat began to pour down the body as it fought back against him. The heat made him feel weak. It was a different kind of heat and not one he could tolerate for too long.

He allowed the body to slip out of his control for a few minutes so that he could gather his strength for one final assault.

...and Tim fell to the floor, too weak to move, trying to get himself to call for help.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The doors to Autopsy opened and Ducky and Jimmy looked up.

"Hey...it's a dog," Jimmy said.

"You're right," Ducky said, in surprise. He walked over and looked at it closely. "Could this be the dog that Timothy adopted? It matches the description Anthony gave us."

"Maybe. But what is it doing here?"

Jimmy walked over to the doors and looked out into the hall but saw no one.

"McGee isn't down here. How did it get here? And why would it be at NCIS, anyway?"

"I have no idea."

The dog whined at Ducky, took a gentle hold of his scrubs and pulled.

"What is it?" Ducky asked the dog.

The dog whined again and barked once. Then, it resumed its hold on Ducky's pants and pulled.

"I believe he wants me to follow him."

"You think it has to do with Tim?"

"Again, I have no idea," Ducky said. "I'll go and check. You finish up here. If there's a problem, I'll let you know. It may just be that this dog needs to get outside."

"I don't know, Dr. Mallard. This doesn't seem normal."

"I agree with you, but I'll definitely call you if I need the help. Don't worry, lad."

Jimmy nodded and went back to the forms they were filling out. Ducky was happy enough to leave him to them. Forms were the least interesting part of his job. He followed the dog out of Autopsy and then to the stairwell. That wasn't what he had expected, but he allowed that this was not a simple situation and he shouldn't expect anything in particular. He opened the door and gasped.

Tim was lying on the stairs and he looked terrible. His face was extremely pale and Ducky could hear his abnormal breathing.

"Timothy!"

He hurried over and knelt down beside him. He took note of Tim's pulse. It was racing.

"Timothy, can you hear me?"

Tim's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Ducky, dazedly.

"Help me, Ducky. Before...before it's...too late."

"Too late for what, lad?"

Ducky felt Tim's forehead.

"You're burning up, Timothy. What happened? You were fine earlier."

"Help. He's coming back...taking...over... Please, Ducky. Help me..."

Ducky thought that Tim must be a little bit delusional. He stood up to go and get Jimmy to help him get Tim out of the stairwell, but then, the dog barked again and started to growl. Ducky turned around.

...just in time to see Tim suddenly sit up and then stand.

"You will go nowhere, Ducky," he said, his voice taking on a strange timbre.

"Timothy, I don't understand. What's happened to you?"

"I am not Timothy," Tim said. "I am your lord, master and executioner, and you will not stir from this spot until I allow you to go."

He made a strange sign with his hands and suddenly, Ducky realized that he could not move. He looked at Tim more carefully and he saw something that told him he had just become involved in something beyond his ken.

Tim's eyes were red.

They weren't glowing red, rather the irises had changed from their usual green to a strange flickering red, as if there was a fire burning in his eyes. As Ducky stared, Tim's lips curled into an evil smile.

"You see quickly, medical man. You will attend me for as long as I need you."

"And then?"

"You will die like everything else."

"You're not very good at hiding your agenda."

"I do not hide anything. You are here to be dead. All life exists simply to die. You will all die. I will destroy all around me and you will see it happen. I will begin with the building here. This Navy Yard. I will destroy and build my palace and you will see the destruction, but none will see the end of it."

"What will be the end, then?" Ducky asked.

"This body will die. And then, the cycle will begin again."

Softly, the thing began to laugh. Ducky refused to think of it as Tim any longer. This was _not_ Tim. It was something else. How this had happened, he didn't know, but it had, and he would not tarnish Tim by associating him with this thing.

"So...what now?"

"Now, you will take me to your domain, Autopsy. Remember that I know what the body knows. Do not try to trick me."

"Why are we going there?"

"You will tell the one called Jimmy that he should leave."

"Why? If you plan on killing everyone, why would you let him leave?"

Again, the thing smiled. It seemed impossible that Tim's face could have such a cruel expression on it, but it did. This was evil, personified.

"Because where is the fun in destruction if you don't have people resisting? They always fail, but they always try. It makes the game more fun."

While he was afraid, Ducky couldn't help but feel disdainful toward this thing. It was arrogant as well as evil.

"You will take me to Autopsy."

"Very well."

Ducky found that he could walk again and he did. He left the stairwell, hoping that Jimmy would be as quick on the uptake as he usually would, that he would see that this was _not_ Tim any longer. The dog was trotting along beside him, looking worried, if he was reading it right.

The Tim-shaped thing walked beside him, and Ducky could see a sheen of sweat on his face. Leftover from Tim's distress or sign of something else? Ducky kept the observation to himself for the moment.

They walked into Autopsy together. Jimmy glanced up.

"Hey, Tim," he said.

"I am not Tim," the thing said.

Jimmy looked more closely.

"What's going on? Some kind of joke?"

"It's not a joke, Mr. Palmer," Ducky said seriously. "It is deadly serious."

Jimmy looked at Ducky and then at Tim and Ducky could see the moment that he saw Tim's eyes and realized things weren't right.

"You will leave us here. I know that you will tell those in NCIS about me, but you will leave."

"I can't leave Ducky here with you," Jimmy said.

"I am not ready to start killing, but I am willing to make an example, now."

He started to raise his hands.

"No. Wait," Ducky said.

He walked over to Jimmy and grabbed his arms.

"Please, Jimmy. Go."

"I can't just leave you like this. What's happened to Tim?"

"I don't know, but he has determined that I am to be a witness of all that he does. He will not kill me until the end, and perhaps by then, you'll find a way to fight back. Go."

"Dr. Mallard..."

"Go...and take the dog with you," Ducky said. He nodded encouragingly. "Please."

"You are running out of time. Do you die now or later?"

Jimmy looked rebellious but he nodded to Ducky. He bent over and picked up the dog and then, he left Autopsy.

Ducky turned back to the thing.

"Now, what?"

"Now, I will rest here for a time and then you will take me to speak to the one who rules in this building. Vance."

"Why?"

"To issue my only warning."

"That you're about to destroy the world?" Ducky asked, infusing some of his disdain into his voice.

The smile again. It was a terrifying sight.

"No. If you destroy the whole world, you only get to do it once. The fun only happens once. If you thoroughly destroy one part of the world, you can do it again and again. I do not die. I can wait until all have forgotten the destruction and then, I rise again and destroy. Again and again. Forever."

"But why?" Ducky asked.

The thing laughed.

"Why do you live? Why not just die? Because living is what you do. Destroying is what I do."

"You don't seem to be as powerful as you claim to be," Ducky said, testing the thing's emotional control.

"This is a strong body. Stronger than it looks to be. It takes time to control it, but it is mine, now."

Ducky rather thought that this thing was not as in control as he claimed to be. It was just a little too quick to claim complete control.

"You think that I do not have the power I claim."

"I wonder."

The thing looked around Autopsy with a smile.

"You are underground here."

"Yes."

"Can you swim?"

Before Ducky could ask what he meant by that, the thing raised Tim's hands in a complicated gesture and then pulled them back toward himself with a vicious jerk.

The autopsy drawers burst open and water began pouring out in torrents. Ducky jumped back at the sight.

"You will stay," the man said.

Ducky found that he was prevented from moving again.

"If I so wished, you and this body would drown. The water would come until I told it to stop."

Water continued to gush out of the drawers, seemingly with no end. The water level began to rise, and Ducky could see that, if this didn't stop, he could very well drown, given that he couldn't move.

"However, I do not wish it."

He raised both hands up in the air and thrust them down toward the floor in one smooth motion. Instantly, the water stopped, although there was at least two feet of water on the floor.

"Now, Ducky, you see that I have power. You see that I can use this body to bring that power out. You will take me up to Vance. Now."

Ducky could move again and, knowing that he had no real alternative, and knowing that this being likely knew where Vance's office was anyway, he nodded. However, his mind was thinking quickly about what he could do to stop this thing before he could destroy whatever part of the world he wanted to destroy. This was not something that would be stopped by conventional means. And what about Tim? Was he still alive inside his body? Could he be saved or was he already dead? The being had spoken only of the body, not of Tim himself.

With all these thoughts rushing through his head, he led the being to the elevator, his wet scrubs flapping against his legs as he walked.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Agent Gibbs!" Jimmy said, almost running off the elevator, a dog in his arms.

"What is it?"

"Why do you have Vardr?" Tony asked.

"What's going on?" Ellie asked.

"There is something wrong. Tim is...possessed or something."

Tony scoffed. "What?"

"Tim's dog came into Autopsy a few minutes ago. It seemed upset and it was pulling at Dr. Mallard to go with it. He did, and when he came back, Tim was with him, but he wasn't Tim anymore. He said that, and I didn't believe it, but then... his eyes were red."

"Bloodshot?" Tony asked. "I didn't see anything like that before."

"No!" Jimmy said, impatiently. "I didn't say bloodshot. I know what I meant. His irises. They were red, like there was a fire burning in his eyes. If you took the green part of his eyes and turned it red, that's what he looked like!"

Gibbs had said almost nothing, but his eyebrow raised. Normally, Jimmy would stammer, but this was too important to let even Gibbs intimidate him. He put the dog down and it began jumping around but no one paid it any attention.

"He said that he was going to destroy, but it wasn't time to start killing yet. He told me to leave."

"And you did?" Tony asked, sounding a little derisive.

"Because Dr. Mallard told me to!" Jimmy said, angrily. "I wasn't going to, but he said that if I didn't leave, he would kill me as an example. Dr. Mallard believed him! Dr. Mallard knows that it's not Tim anymore. I don't know how. I don't know why, but there's something really wrong. Dr. Mallard said that this...thing had chosen him to be a witness of what he did and so he wouldn't be killed until the end, but he hoped we'd figure out some way to stop...whatever it is that took over Tim."

Ellie's eyes were wide. "Jimmy, I can tell that you believe what you're saying...but what you're saying is ridiculous! People don't get _possessed_. That doesn't happen in real life! It happens in horror movies!"

"I know it doesn't," Jimmy said. "I know that, but it has. Whether it does or not, it has happened, now. The only way it's not true is if Dr. Mallard and McGee decided to play some kind of cruel joke on me, but I don't know why they would. It's not April Fool's. There's nothing special about today, and...and that's the kind of thing that Tony would do, not Tim."

"Hey!" Tony protested, but then, he nodded in agreement when everyone looked at him.

"I don't know what to do, Agent Gibbs. I don't even know what to tell _you_ to do. I just hope you have an idea of what to do."

Jimmy looked at Gibbs, hopefully. This was well outside of his realm of experience. As Ellie had said, it was impossible for someone to get possessed. That kind of thing didn't happen in the real world. It was as mythical as Icarus making wings and flying too close to the Sun. It just didn't happen.

And yet, it had.

"Come on," Gibbs said, abruptly.

"On your six, Boss," Tony said, following behind.

Jimmy hesitated, unsure if he was being included in this command. Gibbs paused and looked back.

"You coming?" he asked.

"Yes, Agent Gibbs."

He followed eagerly, hoping to have some sign of Gibbs knowing what to do.

They all got onto the elevator and Gibbs sent it down to Abby's lab. They walked in together.

"What's up?" Abby asked.

Gibbs walked into her office and turned off her music.

"Hey! I haven't done anything to deserve that!" she protested. Then, she saw Vardr walking with them. She crouched down and started petting him. "Oh! It's Tim's dog! How cute you are! I wasn't sure about letting Tim get a new dog after Jethro, but this is a good one. I can tell."

"Abby!" Gibbs said.

"What?!"

"Bring up the security camera in Autopsy. Now."

"Why? What's... The last time you wanted me to do that was when Ari was..." Abby paled and did as Gibbs said. There was no sound, but they had the image. Tim was with Ducky. He looked pale, but he looked strange, too. Something about the way he walked and gestured looked wrong. Then, suddenly, he pointed at the wall of autopsy drawers and they opened. Water burst out of them.

There was more than one exclamation.

"How did he do that?" Abby asked. "Why? They could drown!"

She started for the door.

"Stop," Gibbs said. "Look."

Then, Tim gestured again and the water stopped. He was talking, and the expression on his face was nothing less than evil. Jimmy didn't like to think that this could possibly be _Tim_. It looked like him, but it couldn't really _be_ him. Tim wasn't evil.

"Boss, what do we do?" Tony asked. "What we're seeing is impossible. No one will believe this, and even if they do, what can we do?"

There was another pause as Gibbs considered. Jimmy hated the delay, hated the silence. It seemed like they should be running off to do something, not just sit there and ponder.

Then, Tim and Ducky walked out of Autopsy.

"Gibbs?" Ellie asked.

"We evacuate the building. Tony, Legal. Ellie, Cybercrimes. Jimmy, HR. Abby, with me. Keep it quiet. Tell them that there's a possible invader. They are to get out as quietly as they can and go home."

They all nodded.

"Then, what?" Jimmy asked.

"We meet back here."

Vardr barked once.

"What about the dog?" Tony asked.

"It's a dog. It'll take care of itself," Gibbs said and headed for the door, with Abby in tow.

Jimmy looked at the dog and felt like it was important that they keep it with them. Tony seemed to feel the same way.

"Vardr, you want to come with me?" Tony asked.

Vardr appeared to be looking at them all in turn and evaluating them. Then, he barked once more and followed Tony.

"Guess we've got our orders," Tony said. "Let's get going."

They scattered.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky walked beside the being who had taken over Tim's body as they left the elevator. When they neared Vance's office, he looked down and saw Gibbs and Abby heading for the stairs. He shook his head imperceptibly and kept moving. He didn't know if the being had noticed. He didn't care. What he cared about was saving the people he knew from being the first this evil thing killed. He had been placed in a position where he could do that much, and he would, even at the expense of his own life.

The being looked down at Gibbs and Abby and Ducky watched him smile. It was a calculating smile, meant to wound. He had said he didn't care about hiding. He seemed to take pleasure in the very idea of being able to cause harm.

"Tim!" Abby said.

Ducky suppressed a groan. Abby would never be known for her tact.

"Should I give her a demonstration?" the being asked.

"No," Ducky said.

The being laughed.

"Ducky has saved you," he said, loudly, still with that same strange timbre. "I recommend you do not squander that salvation. It will not be offered again. Soon, it will be time to destroy."

So much for keeping all this a secret. Ducky had hoped to keep this from as many people as possible because they would see Tim, not an evil being.

"A warning," the being said, still speaking loudly.

He raised crossed arms over his head, fingers stretched out to their fullest extent. For just a second, all was still. Everyone was staring at someone who seemed to be crazy.

But only for a second.

Then, he flung his hands out and down in one violent motion.

...and the windows blew in, glass showering over everyone below. There were some screams and a lot of ducking.

The man who had been Tim just laughed with pleasure at the chaos below.

Then, he turned to Ducky.

"Now, we will move on."

Ducky nodded, reluctantly. He resumed their path to Vance's office. He was relieved that Pamela was gone already. One less person to be threatened.

"You will not knock," the being said.

"Very well."

They walked in and Vance was standing there, apparently waiting. Whatever had been told to him, he was ready for the invasion.

"Who are you?" he asked, as soon as they entered.

"I am," the being said.

"And _what_ are you?" Vance asked.

"Evil."

"What do you want?"

"To destroy."

"What?"

"Everything within my reach," he said.

Then, he flung one hand toward Vance. Ducky had a fraction of a second to worry that he had decided to start killing and then the entire back wall of Vance's office exploded outward.

Vance couldn't help but react and he dove for the floor.

The being laughed at him.

"You see what I mean?"

"Yes," Vance said, getting back to his feet. "What do you want here?"

"You have the chance to leave and I will begin my destruction from this place."

"If I don't?"

Again, the being made a gesture and this time, Vance flew backward and hit the wall.

"You will die," the being said.

Vance slid to the floor, and Ducky ran over to him without asking for permission.

"Please, Director, you must go," Ducky said in a low voice.

Vance was more than a little dazed and Ducky tried to bring him around. Finally, his eyes opened and he met Ducky's gaze.

"Director, please, go."

"And leave you here?"

"Yes. Please. If you try to stay, he will simply kill you. It will not serve any purpose. You will not save me or Timothy by letting yourself be killed, now. This thing has no mercy. It has no remorse. It wants to kill. Don't give it the satisfaction."

Vance looked beyond Ducky to the man standing with a smile of almost sensual pleasure.

"Are you sure I should leave you?"

"Yes, and you can do whatever it takes to stop what he is about to do, but not at cost of your life."

"What about yours?"

Ducky forced himself to smile.

"I would prefer if it is not at the cost of mine, either."

Vance smiled back.

"All right. I'll go."

Ducky helped Vance to his feet and then to the door. He felt Vance's hand tighten on his arm for just a moment, but Ducky resisted. He was not only staying because he knew he'd be safe this way. He was also staying in the hopes of discovering some way to free Tim from this being. Physically, he couldn't fight, but he wanted to find out what weaknesses this thing had.

Vance let him go and left the office.

Ducky took a breath and turned back.

"And now, what?" he asked.

But he was surprised at what he saw. The being was leaning over the desk, breathing erratically. For one shining moment, he thought that maybe this would be the end of it. He took a step forward.

That hope was dashed when the being straightened, again. He looked at Ducky.

"Now, I will rest for a time and then, the palace will rise."

"Palace?"

"A ruler must have a place from which to rule, no matter how brief his reign may be."

A palace? Could he mean exactly what he was saying? Ducky didn't know, but he was examining Tim's body. What he was seeing was not a body being completely controlled. If he had seen Tim looking like this, he would have thought he was deathly ill.

 _Sick with what?_ Ducky asked himself.

He considered the obvious symptoms. Erratic breathing. An erratic heart rate, too, if it was the same as when he'd first found Tim in the stairwell. A very high fever. Pale skin but with a slight flush in his cheeks and a sheen of sweat on his face.

 _Could it be a reaction to infection? Sepsis?_

It seemed almost laughable. Certainly, it didn't fit in with the traditional horror movie version of demonic possession, but at the same time, if Tim was really possessed by an evil being, then, in a sense, that could be interpreted as an infection. The symptoms certainly fit. The question was whether or not a typical treatment for sepsis would actually lead to ridding Tim's body of this evil invader.

...and how could he get access to antibiotics and then actually give an injection?

Still, it gave him something to think about, something to plan while this evil being rested.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Vance stumbled down the stairs, trying to regain his equilibrium after his close encounter with the wall.

"Director Vance, are you all right?"

He looked up and saw Gibbs and Abby. He sat down on the stairs.

"Would you like to tell me more about what's going on, Agent Gibbs?" he asked. "Your phone call didn't give me much to go on."

"What happened?" Gibbs asked.

"Tim walked into my office, blew out the back wall and then threw me against another wall...all without even touching anything. He just waved his hands and it happened. He said he was evil and he was going to destroy everything."

"That fits."

"With _what_?" Vance asked.

"With what we've seen so far. We got the building evacuated except for the MCRT and Abby and Jimmy."

"And Ducky," Vance said.

"Jimmy said Ducky wasn't willing to try to leave Tim."

"He wants to save him," Abby said. "It's obvious. He can't do anything if he's not there. He thinks that he might be able to save Tim somehow and so he'll stay until he decides it won't work."

Vance nodded.

"That makes sense. The question is what do we do now? How can I call for help or try to tell SECNAV that one of my agents has been possessed by evil and is about to destroy the world? How did this even happen?"

"We don't know," Gibbs said. "Tim was acting a little strange yesterday, but he seemed fine today until all this started happening."

"Okay. I guess at this point, it's less important to know how it started. How do we end it?"

"Don't know that, either," Gibbs said.

"Great. Gibbs, you're supposed to be the omniscient one around here."

Gibbs smiled a little. "Wasn't aware that was in my job description."

Tony, Ellie and Jimmy came running over, but Tony looked more than a little wigged out.

"Boss...uh...we got the building emptied out, but..."

"But what?"

Tony looked at Jimmy and Ellie and then back. "Uh...I'm wondering if I'm starting to go nuts, too."

"Why?"

" _Because he heard a voice and he thought it was coming from the dog."_

They all looked around, searching for the source of the sound.

"Who spoke just now?" Vance asked. He looked at the dog. "What dog is this?"

"Tim found it at an old house a few days ago," Tony said. "He decided to take it home."

"And then, he is apparently possessed? That's a strange coincidence," Vance said, getting to his feet.

Vardr barked twice and then whined.

" _The dog is innocent, although it is very special. I have never found it so easy to live within an animal as it was with this one. It is here because I forced it to bring me here. It is hard to travel in my noncorporeal form. I had been sheltering inside the dog for months before you came to the house. Would that I could have stopped you."_

"Can you...be visible?" Abby asked. "It's really weirding me out to hear your voice without something to look at."

" _I can, but only in a limited fashion. If you could go to a place with less light, it would be easier."_

Vance considered where would be best to go, but then, he decided it wouldn't matter so much. He gestured for them to go to a conference room. They could close the curtains and turn off the lights. That would do.

They all gathered together, with Vardr.

"Okay, we're ready," Tony said.

" _Very well."_

Vardr whimpered and crouched down and then, a mist came out of his eyes, gathered above him and coalesced into a vaguely human shape. All that seemed solid were the bright blue eyes. There were a few details. He obviously had hands, feet, and there were hints of details on his face, but only his eyes were easily seen. The figure looked down at the dog and then leaned over and ran his translucent hand over Vardr.

"I am sorry for that pain."

The voice was human and male.

"I did not wish to cause suffering in you. I thank you for your service to me. I will not use you again."

Vardr whined once more and then ran to Tony and rubbed his head on Tony's leg. Vance found that somewhat amusing as Tony bent down and scratched its ears, almost absentmindedly. His attention was all on this...ghost?

"Who or what are you? Tim said that _he_ was evil. What are you?"

"I am not evil. I _was_ a man...so many years ago that I hardly remember how it felt to be just a man."

"If you were a man, then, you had a name," Ellie said. "What was it?"

"A crazy mouthful that my father gave to me. Porphyrogene. It was both a name and a symbol of my role as heir."

"Heir? To what?"

"To the throne of a small kingdom in what you now call Europe. It mattered little to the rest of the world, but we were happy. We loved our valley, the green fields, the blue sky, the mountains stretching up toward heaven. It seemed to be full of song all day. The Traveler even told me once that he could see the spirits celebrating the goodness of our small realm. We fought no one and welcomed all as friends. We were innocents, kept away from a world of corruption. ...but corruption found us, at last. That _evil thing_ came to our valley, possessed my father and destroyed all he could reach. Destruction upon destruction until all who could had run away and all who could not were dead. Only my father's body, the Traveler and myself remained. I thought I could stop him. Kill him. Destroy him as he had destroyed my world."

Porphyrogene stopped speaking and it was surprising to hear the emotion in his voice. When his whole being seemed almost not to exist, hearing the very real despair didn't seem to fit

"But the Traveler was right. That evil could not be killed. I tried, and I failed. The Traveler must have done something to me because when that evil thing came at me, I fled, but I left my body behind. All he had was the empty husk. Since then, I have tried to go where he has gone, tried to stop the destruction when it came. And came it did, over and over, through the unending centuries. He does not destroy everything, only what he can easily reach. He chooses a central spot and the destruction reaches outward from him there."

"What makes him stop?" Vance asked.

"Death. Death of the body he possesses. The body cannot live long with him inside it. It dies and the evil thing moves on, weakened, but still alive. It bides its time until another opportunity arises and he does it again. I fear that the Traveler was right."

"About what?"

"That the only thing that could destroy corruption is something infinitely pure because corruption spreads. It is a disease. One bit of it in something pure changes that pure thing into corruption and evil. Perhaps not a lot, but a little. It is evil and if it has any purchase, it will survive. It has always survived. I did not believe in the evil thing until I saw its deadly power. Life fights back. Evil never wins permanently, but these small victories are devastating to those in its path."

"Who is this Traveler?" Vance asked.

"A stranger to our land. He came when I was a child and he knew so much. Some said that he had strange powers, but if he did, they were only used for good. He fled to keep the evil thing from using him and whatever powers he might have had. I assume he has been dead for centuries, but perhaps he lives on as I do. What a burden to never be able to stop, to never sleep, just to exist forever. It is a pain all its own."

"Can't you stop?" Abby asked.

"If I can I have not yet figured out how. I suppose it is better to live as I do than to have had my very soul destroyed as my father's was."

"Destroyed?" Abby repeated. "Do you mean that... that Tim is...?" She trailed off.

"I do not know if your friend's soul lives on in his body, but if it does it will not for long. The evil thing delights in pain and destruction. It is what he wants, and he will do it to all around him and he will do it to the very body he possesses until that body dies. I can only pray that my father was dead, that he did not live to see what his body had done. What torment that would be, to know that one's body was used for such evil."

Vance could see that was no comfort to anyone else. Was Tim alive or was he dead? Which would be better?

"Can he be stopped by us?" Tony asked. "Even if he is evil, he's only one."

"One who is powerful, one who may be older than all existence. He knows every trick there is."

"How long has it been since he did this before?" Ellie asked.

"It has been...many years. It is hard for me to separate them out and know how many there have been. It was far away from here. I believe the explanation given for the destruction was a comet or asteroid exploding in the air. Few people were killed, but there were some and much destruction."

"Tunguska," Abby said, almost whispering. "In 1908. They've never known exactly what caused it, but almost 1000 square miles of trees were flattened. People felt the force, some heard it, but no one was there to see."

"No one who survived," Porphyrogene said.

"What does he do in between?" Ellie asked.

Vance could see that she was thinking of something, so he let her continue on her train of thought.

"Regains his power. It is a difficult thing to both possess a body and manipulate it to use powers it does not normally use. It takes his strength. He hides long enough to recover. That destruction weakened him and it took me many years to find him again. In that house."

"Then, he doesn't know everything," Ellie said. "Maybe he knows what Tim knows and I know that Tim knows a lot, but will he realize all that he knows? Can he understand it? He doesn't know about a lot of things we use now. Surely, we can come up with _something_."

"It's a place to start," Vance said.

Then, suddenly, there was a shaking deep inside the building.

"You all should get out," Porphyrogene said. "It has begun."

"What has?" Vance asked.

"Destruction."

Vardr left Tony's side and ran to the door, scratching at it and whining. Vance nodded. Yes, it was time to get out, even if he didn't really understand what was happening or why. He hated that he felt so powerless, but it was enough to know that something was endangering their lives right at this moment. The rest could wait.

They all stood and made a run for it, getting out of the building just in time to see the madness begin.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The being stood motionless with his eyes closed. Ducky wanted to test his awareness, but he wasn't sure how to do it. Then, a thought crossed his mind.

 _I have my phone. I could send a text message to Jimmy if I could manage it._

Decision made, he reached furtively into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Moving slowly but still casually as he could, he opened up a window to send a message. He typed it as quickly as he could, although that wasn't quickly at all. He didn't tend to send text messages often.

 _J. Get antibiotics. Brad spectrum. ASAP. Injectable. Hi dose. Leave in Autopy if possible. Or use dog._

Then, he sent it, even though he noticed and grimaced at the typos. He didn't want to go back and fix them. It was more important to get the message sent.

Then, he put his phone back into his pocket.

The being had not moved or indicated any awareness at all. How much more could he try? Would an attempt to restrain him be of any use? Likely not. He had power. That much was obvious, and Ducky wasn't sure that it would be a good idea to test its limits. Not right now while he was alone.

He was glad that he'd made that decision because suddenly, with a deep breath, the being opened his eyes and looked around. A cruel smile curled the lips and he seemed to savor every moment.

"Why do you need me here?" Ducky asked. "Surely, there will be witnesses enough."

"But none close to hand," the being said. "None to watch and ache as you will."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because you are human," he said with a sneer. "I have always wondered why it is that humans fear death so and yet suffer more from emotional pain than physical. It makes no sense, but humans are like that. Why would you not fear an end to existence more than a simple ripple in your life?"

"Physical pain can be eased. Mental pain often cannot."

"Exactly. You will feel pain for those who are about to die. You will feel pain as this body dies, knowing that it takes the soul with it. But you will also die and you will have both pains. I will see them in you and it will give me pleasure."

Indeed, he seemed almost hungry for it.

"And my pleasure is all that matters."

"You claimed to be evil," Ducky said, hoping to forestall the destruction.

"I do not claim. I am."

"Then, are you the devil?"

The evil thing laughed. "Devil? I am older than any devil. Where do you think he learned it?"

"Do you have a name?"

"I am evil."

"I need to call you something."

"Why? To make me seem more human? You can call me the name of this body."

Ducky forced himself to laugh. "No. You are not human. I know that, and I refuse to dignify you with Timothy's name."

The being stepped closer to Ducky, walking slowly and certainly. He tilted his head to one side and then the other as he came closer and closer. It gave him an almost animal-like appearance. He leaned in close to Ducky's face, forcing him to make eye contact with those red, flaming eyes that should be Tim's but weren't in the worst way.

"It pains you to see this. Does it not?"

"I will not call you Timothy, no matter what you do."

"Then, you may call me Idalu."

"What is that?"

Again, that smile.

"Evil. In a very old language, one no longer spoken."

"Fitting," Ducky said, but that was all.

Idalu stayed close for far too long. However, this gave Ducky a chance to analyze the state of Tim's body, and it was not good. How long could it survive with this level of weakness? He would guess that it was only the power that this Idalu had that was keeping the body from complete collapse. Perhaps that was what he meant by destroying the body last of all. He would keep using it until it died.

 _Well, that won't happen this time._

Suddenly, Idalu pulled back and his smile widened.

"It is time. You will not delay me any longer."

He raised his hands and Ducky felt a strange rumbling. It seemed to be such a low frequency that he couldn't hear it, only feel it. The intensity of it increased until it was a sound he could hear.

"I hope your friends all left," Idalu said.

He raised the hands higher, the fingers curled into claws, the arms shaking with some kind of immense effort. Then, he clapped his hands together and Ducky had an experience he would never forget.

The building exploded all around him. The bricks, mortar, windows, everything exploded outward all at once and began to swirl in a kind of tornado around Idalu and himself. The sound was now a roaring. Ducky felt the floor beneath him begin to shake and then, he realized that the two of them were being raised up into the air, higher and higher. Forcing himself not to close his eyes, Ducky watched, and he saw that it was not only NCIS that was being affected. The other buildings on the Yard were also disintegrating and being added to the swirl of debris. He could hear screams and see people running for their lives. Yes, it did cause him pain, but he said nothing about it.

Idalu was focused on the debris, but then, Ducky noticed that it wasn't just swirling around at random. As they moved higher, there was a tower being built.

A palace.

Built out of the destruction of NCIS and rest of the Yard.

Finally, the swirling stopped and Ducky found himself standing with Idalu on the top of a tower, looking down over the Anacostia, the ruined remains of the Yard. How far would his reach go?

"And now, I have a palace, and now, the death will begin."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

They got out of the building and ran over to the _Barry_ and then looked back. The shaking ebbed and Tony wondered if maybe they had overreacted because of all the strangeness.

Jimmy suddenly pulled out his phone and looked at it. His expression went from confused to surprised.

"What is it?" Tony asked.

"Dr. Mallard just sent me a text. I can't remember the last time he texted me."

"What does it say?"

"He wants me to get a broad spectrum antibiotic and find some way to get it to him. He said that I could maybe use the dog."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. The message is short and he must have been in a hurry because there are typos."

Jimmy held out his phone. Tony looked and nodded. Why, though?

"What could he need antibiotics for?"

"High dosage, too. I don't know."

"Why would he think Vardr could get to him?" Tony asked.

At the name, Vardr came running over to Tony and jumped up at him.

" _He is a very smart dog. Perhaps smarter now than he was."_

"Why?"

" _Because he learned from me during my time with him. He is not intelligent, but he is smarter than most dogs and there is something about him that is different. A good different."_

But before they could say anything more, the shaking increased.

"What's going on?" Ellie asked. "An earthquake?"

" _Not a natural one."_

Porphyrogene had vanished once again, but his voice was the same.

" _Look."_

They looked up at the building as it seemed to explode. Tony ducked, but then realized that none of the debris was hitting them. He straightened and watched in shock as the pieces of the building were reassembling themselves into a...

"...palace?" he said aloud.

It _was_ a palace, but this was no Cinderella building. The towers were twisted and it just looked _dark_. It was evil.

" _He has not done this before. He simply used the palace we had. Why build when he did not need to? He has only ever destroyed."_

"What do you mean?" Ellie asked, watching as the Yard was destroyed to build this structure. Pieces of other buildings were being pulled away to supplement the grotesque structure.

" _I mean that he has never built in my memory."_

Ellie got that look on her face.

"What," Tony said.

"What if the corruption works both ways?" she asked.

"What are you talking about and why does it even matter? The Yard is being torn apart!"

Indeed, they could hear people screaming and see others running away from the disintegrating buildings.

"Because it could tell us how much of a chance we have of stopping him!"

"What do you mean, Bishop?" Gibbs asked.

Ellie looked around.

"Are you still here?" she asked.

" _Yes."_

"You said that the Traveler told you that evil will corrupt anything it touches, right?"

" _Yes."_

"And you just said that Vardr learned from you while you were with him, even though you weren't necessarily controlling him."

" _Yes, but I was inside him for many months."_

"I see!" Abby said. "It's like passive transport, diffusion! If the evil will diffuse into the good, then, a little bit of the good could also diffuse into the evil!"

"You mean that if we wait long enough he'll be a good guy?" Tony asked. "Based on what we're seeing here, I'm not sure I'm ready to wait that long."

"No, but he's never built anything before, and now, he has. He's not all-powerful. He's not infinitely evil, either, because he's had all these times of possessing people. That means that it's possible that he has some kind of weakness. I don't know what it would be, but we don't have to go into this thinking that we're automatically going to lose. This is a being, something that can be understood."

Gibbs looked at Ellie and then, he looked at Jimmy.

"Get the antibiotic. Whatever you have to do. DiNozzo."

"Go with him, right. We'll take Vardr along. Vardr, come with us!"

Vardr barked once, looked toward the rising palace and growled, and then joined Tony.

"Gibbs, what are _we_ going to do?" Abby asked.

"We're going to try to get inside that thing," Gibbs said.

"Gibbs," Vance said. "That doesn't seem all that smart."

"Can't just leave it like this, Leon. You want to talk to SECNAV or come with us?"

Tony could see the distaste in Vance's expression. Try to explain that one of his agents had been possessed and was destroying the Yard?

"Watch your back, Gibbs," Vance said. "I'll see if we can figure something out and maybe we can keep casualties to a minimum by not just rushing in and bombing this monstrosity, although I'd like nothing more."

Gibbs nodded and then looked at Tony.

"On our way, Boss. Let's go, Jimmy."

Jimmy nodded and they began to pick their way off the _Barry_ and to another part of the Yard.

"Where do we go, Jimmy?"

Jimmy stopped.

"There's the clinic. Maybe it's still intact?"

Tony looked northward. Some of the buildings on the Yard still looked okay.

"Let's try it."

They started to run that way, even as they saw people coming toward the newly-assembled palace. They told them not to go there, but they never stopped on their way, and when they got to it, it seemed to be mostly intact. Windows had been blown in and one chunk was missing, but, by and large, the building had survived.

"What do you think?" Tony asked.

"I think that I'm going inside."

Tony grinned. "Sounds good. Let's try it."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs hated what was happening. It didn't make any sense. It shouldn't be real, and that just wasn't right. He hadn't had a chance to see Tim up close, but Jimmy didn't seem to have any doubts. Ducky had chosen to stay with him. Vance knew that something was wrong.

...and Tim was doing things that were very un-Tim-like.

Now, as they headed for the...palace that had been erected on the site of NCIS, he wondered if Tim knew what was happening.

 _I hope not, for Tim's sake._

Tim would not take this kind of action well.

Then, there was a scream.

They all looked up and saw someone falling from the highest tower and then come to an abrupt stop in the rubble on the ground.

Ellie covered her mouth at the realization of what had just happened.

Death. Destruction.

It wasn't just about ruining buildings. It was about destroying people, too.

And here was the first victim.

"Do..." Ellie cleared her throat and tried again. "Should we see...who it...is? Was?"

"No. Won't matter. Couldn't have survived that fall."

Both Ellie and Abby nodded.

Instead, they continued their approach to the building, determined to get inside and stop this thing before more people died.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"No!"

Ducky couldn't hold back his cry of despair as Idalu plucked the injured man from the rubble and then threw him over the edge of the tower.

Although he had known that Idalu meant it when he spoke of his evil and his intent, at the same time, it just hadn't seemed real until this moment.

Until he had watched the body of Tim McGee actually kill another man. Granted, it had been done without Idalu having to really touch him, but it didn't matter. This was horrifying. It also took all he had to remember that this wasn't Tim doing it. While he knew it by the actions, it was all the more horrifying when it was Tim's body committing murder and so gleefully.

Idalu turned away from the edge of the building with a satisfied expression on his face.

"You monster," Ducky said softly.

Idalu laughed.

"Yes, you feel pain and anger. Good."

Ducky wished there was some way to keep his horror from this evil being, but he could see no way to do so. He was just not strong enough to hide it.

Idalu walked over to Ducky.

"You wish to attack me. You wish to stop me. There was one who tried. He died. All die. Would you like to try it?"

"I will stop you, but not like that."

Idalu laughed again.

"You will try. You will fail. You will die."

Ducky grimaced, but he said nothing more. He just prayed that Jimmy would come through.

Idalu turned away and looked out over the Anacostia.

"I see they are coming to stop me. I have not seen a craft like that."

A drone. Ducky was relieved to see that it wasn't a manned craft. The drone came closer and closer. Idalu waited and then he raised his hands once more, fingers curled into claws and his eyes almost seemed to glow as he flung them out at the drone. It was suddenly consumed in a ball of fire. Not satisfied with that, Idalu ran toward the edge and then flung his hands down and the burning drone zoomed toward the _Barry_ and flames burst from the ship. Idalu laughed maniacally, and Ducky could see that he hadn't been lying. It was something that seemed to be almost arousing to him.

"And after all, it is destroyed. It is gone, just like all will be. This is a perfect world for what I am doing. You all think it impossible that I could exist and you treat it like a human thing. I am not human and you will all discover it...to your despair and to your destruction. And another will die now!"

Ducky looked and saw someone running off the _Barry_. It was too far away to see who it was, but Ducky could see it coming and he wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He watched as Idalu produced another fire ball in his hands and sent it flying at his target.

He had very good aim.

The person was instantly engulfed in flames. He fell off the gangplank and into the river. Ducky could only hope that this saved him and didn't lead to his death.

Regardless, he hated seeing death dealed out so indiscriminantly. Idalu didn't care who it was or what the person was doing. He just wanted to kill and he did.

How much longer could this last?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony and Jimmy ran out of the clinic, Vardr hot on their heels.

"You can be pretty eloquent when you want to be, Jimmy," Tony said.

"I just told them what I needed and why I needed it."

"And threatened to sic not only Ducky but Gibbs on them if they didn't immediately obey your every command," Tony said.

"Did I say that?"

"Yeah."

"Well...they didn't want to give me an antibiotic when the whole Yard is falling apart. I had to make them know that I was serious."

"You succeeded."

"Thank you."

"Okay, so now, we see if Gibbs, Abby and Ellie have found a way inside."

Jimmy stopped for a moment.

"What?" Tony asked.

"Are we really going to trust this dog to get to Dr. Mallard?"

Tony looked at Vardr. He barked once and started pushing on Tony's legs, trying to get him to move.

"He seems to know what we want. I'm willing to try it."

"Okay. Let's keep going."

They kept running, ducking around the rubble as fire seemed to burst out of nowhere in various places. When they got to the palace, they started looking for Gibbs and company.

"Boss!" Tony called.

"Hey, we have a dog. Let's see how smart he is."

Jimmy knelt down.

"Vardr, can you find Gibbs for us?"

Vardr cocked his head to the side for a few seconds.

"Gibbs! Guy that smells like he bathes in coffee every morning."

Tony laughed. "What will you give me if I never tell Gibbs that?"

"If we survive this, we can discuss it," Jimmy said.

Vardr barked and started sniffing the ground. Then, he barked again and took off. Tony and Jimmy followed along behind him. The rubble palace had changed the entire layout of this part of the Yard. It was almost like being in a completely foreign area. Vardr didn't seem to have that problem. He clambered over the debris as if it wasn't even there. Then, he barked again and Tony could see movement.

"Boss!"

"Shut up, Tony!" Abby hissed at him.

Jimmy and Tony came around corner and saw that they'd found both the team and an opening.

"We don't know just how much this thing is going to hear," Ellie said in a low voice. "We just found this entrance."

"It looks like an emergency exit," Jimmy said.

Gibbs nodded.

"You got it?"

"Yeah."

"You think we should just send Vardr in there?"

"For now, yes," Gibbs said.

"Okay."

Tony knelt down and got the bag holding the syringe with a very large dose of antibiotics. Jimmy also put an extra syringe, just in case. He had no idea what Ducky was going to be using it for, but this was the best they could do.

"Okay, Vardr. If you can pull this off, you will officially be the smartest dog in the whole world. I need you to find Tim. I know he's not really Tim right now, but if you find him, you can fix that. Find Tim and Ducky! Go!"

Vardr looked at Tony, looked at the entrance, barked and seemed anxious.

"Go, Vardr! You can do it!" Tony said.

One more bark and then Vardr ran into the darkness.

"Now, what?" Tony asked.

"Now, we try to plan something rather than just running in there," Gibbs said.

"Fine by me."

"Perhaps, I could help you?"

They all turned toward the voice and were surprised to see a man there. He had a rather drab look about him, the kind of person one would tend to forget instantly once he was gone. His voice was soft and soothing.

"Who are you?" Gibbs asked.

" _He is the Traveler,"_ came the voice of Porphyrogene.

The man looked toward the voice.

"I thought I might find you where the evil thing was. I am sorry."

" _You did this."_

"Yes. To save your soul."

" _And lose my body."_

"Better your body than your soul. The body is lost, regardless of when. The soul is supposed to be forever."

"You look pretty alive for a guy who apparently lived centuries ago," Tony said suspiciously. "So far the only things living that long are a disembodied spirit and some evil demon thing. Which one are you?"

The Traveler smiled. "Neither. Once, I was a king. That was many _many_ years ago. My name was Zin-Suddu of Shuruppak. I was king and priest and I learned many things, but I am a man, not a god or demon. I am simply...a different kind of man, one who lives a very long time."

"Forever?" Abby asked.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I have not yet reached forever," he said.

"Zin-Suddu?" Ellie repeated.

"You may shorten it to Zin, if you wish. Much easier to manage when you do not speak the language."

"What language?" Abby asked. "I think I've heard the name before."

Zin smiled again. "Perhaps, now is not the appropriate time to discuss my name and my past. You want to fight the evil thing."

"Yes," Gibbs said.

"You will lose."

"Why?"

"Because you cannot fight a thing like this as a physical being. He can leave the body he possesses at any time and then, all you will do is kill your friend, not the evil thing."

"Can _you_ do anything?"

"I, too, am a physical being. I have spent long years trying to find a way to stop him, but I have failed so far."

" _What if he has to fight something that is not physical?"_ Porphyrogene asked.

"I have never been that. I do not know, but I do know that you risk annihilation."

" _I would risk it."_

"I know you would. Perhaps, you are right and it is time to take a risk. Would you like my help? I cannot go with you to battle. I would make things worse were the evil thing able to take over me," Zin said. "But I will help you plan, if that is what you wish."

Tony deferred to Gibbs on this one. Gibbs was silent for a few seconds, both considering the offer and the person making it.

"All right. Let's do it."

They gathered together and started to talk about what might be done.

...all the while hoping that something _could_ be done.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

As the Sun dropped down toward the horizon and the day turned to night, Idalu suddenly had another of the fits that seemed to weaken him, the times when he seemed more at the mercy of the body rather than the body at the mercy of him.

He didn't seem disturbed by it, though. Instead, he simply stood, arms out and closed his eyes.

Ducky didn't know what to do at this point. He knew that others had died or been injured at the least. He didn't know if the government was going to try to end it just by destroying the palace or if they had been persuaded by his demonstration of power. He also had no idea whether or not his text message had got to Jimmy. There were so many unknowns.

Then, suddenly, just as the Sun disappeared below the horizon, Ducky saw a very welcome sight.

Vardr was carefully picking his way over a pile of rubble and Ducky could see that something was tied around his neck. With a glance over at Idalu, Ducky gestured for Vardr to come to him. The dog walked over and, for a wonder, remained quiet. Ducky knelt down and opened the bag Vardr carried. He wanted to shout for joy when he realized that he had not one but two syringes. Now, he had to assume that Jimmy had got what he asked, but at this point, he was ready to be a little reckless.

"Thank you, Vardr. Stay here," Ducky said very softly, hoping the dog's keen ears would hear him.

Then, he got up and walked toward the evil thing. It was the first time he'd voluntarily approached him. He had the syringe in hand, ready to inject. The other was securely hidden in his shoe. Gibbs might want everyone to have a knife, but Ducky was happy to have a backup syringe.

He took a long, almost-silent breath. Then, he took a huge risk and plunged the syringe into the shoulder of the possessed body. He sent the antibiotic into the system, hoping for a result. Then, he withdrew it and threw it away. The eyes flew open and in an instant, the red eyes narrowed and he began to advance on Ducky. Ducky backed away as quickly as he could, never turning his eyes away from the advancing figure.

"What have you done?" he asked.

"Whatever I can do. It may be nothing. It may be something, but I've tried," Ducky said, ready to die in defiance, if necessary.

For a moment, it looked as though that was going to be his fate. Those dangerous hands came up and the red eyes began to glow, but then, Idalu stumbled and slowed and then fell to his knees. He reached out once and then fell to the ground.

Could it be that easy?

Ducky didn't know, but he ran over and turned the body over. It was shaking and very hot.

"Timothy? Can you hear me? Are you in there?"

Slowly, the eyes opened and Ducky celebrated when he saw that they were their usual green color.

"Timothy!"

Tim appeared to be trying to talk, but all that came out were strangled gasps. Vardr ran over and began licking Tim's face, whining.

Ducky pushed the dog away.

"H-Help...Du... Help...me..." Tim said in between his gasps for breath. "K-Kill... S-S-Stop... No..."

Then, suddenly, he seemed to seize up and his back arched. Ducky backed away, knowing that if this was a seizure (a possible side effect of some antibiotics at high doses), he could do nothing, and if Idalu was coming back, he would be better served out of reach.

The body slumped down to the ground and was motionless for just long enough that Ducky thought he might be dead or Tim might be back again. Vardr began growling.

The eyes opened again, and they were red.

Red and almost glowing with fury.

Idalu pushed himself up to his feet.

"I should kill you, now, and be finished with you," he said.

Ducky scrambled to his own feet and watched without comment.

Idalu took a couple of steps forward and then made a strangled sound and stumbled again. He stopped and the sound did as well. For just a second, he seemed almost surprised, but then, he covered the expression and looked at Ducky angrily.

"What did you do?"

"What I could."

"It was not enough."

"So I see," Ducky said, but it seemed that, while it wasn't _enough_ , it _was_ something. Idalu seemed much less confident, and instead of berating Ducky any further, he stalked away from him. Inwardly, Ducky was celebrating. It was a small victory, but it appeared to him that Tim was not quite as suppressed as he had been. He thought that Tim had stopped Idalu from taking his revenge in that moment of fury.

He wanted to use the other syringe, but he would have to get closer to do that, and he wasn't likely to manage it anytime soon. That kind of tactic would work only once.

However, he had done one thing, even if it hadn't killed Idalu. He had confirmed that Tim was still alive inside his body and that meant that, if they could somehow evict the invader, Tim could come back.

It was just a matter of doing it.

Somehow.

Idalu suddenly collapsed to his knees and began to vomit. Then, he fell over and began to shake.

Vardr ran over and began whining. Ducky took a couple of steps but was unsure about getting too close. The antibiotic was still in his system. In fact, if he could get the second larger dose administered in the next few hours, it would only intensify the effect. Would it be enough? He didn't know, but he was glad to see the continuing reaction to the antibiotic, even as he ached for what Tim must be going through.

"V-Vardr..."

Tim's voice.

"N-No."

Vardr began growling. Another seizure and Idalu was back. He got up and kicked at Vardr.

"What is this dog doing here?"

Vardr growled once more and then ran over to Ducky and hid behind his legs, drawing Idalu's attention to Ducky once again.

"He cares about Timothy, obviously," Ducky said, interested that Vardr seemed to have no difficulty in determining when it was Tim and when it was Idalu.

Idalu spat on the floor and then stood up again. He looked shakier than ever, and Ducky suppressed a satisfied smile. The antibiotic was clearly having a more powerful effect than Idalu was ready for.

Suddenly, Idalu turned around and focused on a distant light. He launched a fireball at it, and whatever it was exploded.

"This body is _mine_! No mortal will take it from me!"

Then, he turned back to Ducky and launched a blast of power at him. Ducky was thrown back against a wall and he was dazed.

"Do what you want to this body! I am more powerful than any mortal!"

A wind sprang up and swirled around in the open space, pushing Ducky against the wall. Vardr was braced against his legs.

Ducky wanted to help the dog, but he was hard-pressed to keep himself from being flung over the edge by the wind.

"You will die! All will die!"

Ducky could see the end coming and he closed his eyes in anticipation.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I will wish you luck," Zin said. "I cannot stay."

"You think we'll fail?" Tony asked.

"I think it is a possibility."

" _Wait!"_

"Yes?"

" _Can you free me from this existence?"_

Zin nodded and Tony watched as he approached the faint glow that was Porphyrogene. He made a strange gesture with his hands and whispered so softly that Tony couldn't hear him. Then, he turned to them all.

"I tread through this world as softly as I can. Those of us who live long must keep our steps quiet and hidden. I will hope and pray that you are able to do what you have planned. Know this one thing, however. If you do not succeed in destroying this evil thing, it will not be a failure if you save a life. The evil thing will be weakened by defeat and if it experiences defeat over and over, it may eventually be destroyed for good. Focus on saving life over destruction. It will give you strength."

"Wait!" Abby said. "Where are you from? I know I've heard your name before! Please, tell me."

Zin smiled gently at her curiosity, almost as a parent might.

"I called my land _ki-en-gir_ , although our land has had many names since that time. My home was Shuruppak. Many years ago. Now, I must leave, but I leave you with my blessing and my hope that life will triumph."

Then, he left them.

"Are we going to do this, Boss?" Tony asked.

"No other choice, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

It was true enough. The only other option was to leave and let Ducky and Tim be killed by some kind of air strike which would surely be coming sooner rather than later.

And that wasn't an option.

Carefully, they began to pick their way through the dark twists and turns of the strangely-assembled palace. There were pieces that were still NCIS as they knew it, but much of the building had been distorted and shifted by pieces of other buildings and simply by whatever power it had been that had constructed the palace in the first place. At one point, they were walking through the bullpen, but then, suddenly, they were in the Navy museum. Once, they thought they were in Autopsy, but then, they were in Cybercrimes.

A set of stairs nearly tripped Gibbs up because they came out of nowhere and all they had were flashlights to lead them through. The Sun had set long ago and it was dark inside and out. The occasional windows gave them little help.

Up they went whenever the opportunity arose. The building was significantly taller than it had been and it was best to try to keep going up until they couldn't any longer. It was like walking through a multi-layered maze. Every time they thought they'd figured out where they were, something else loomed up before them that messed them up.

It felt like they _had_ to be getting close to the top. The most recent flight of stairs stopped as suddenly as it started and they were walking on the level. There was a long hallway which turned around a sharp corner. Faintly, they could see some light. The end of the road?

Then, they felt a shaking and they all stopped.

" _He is using his power, now. We are feeling the backlash of it."_

"Are we in danger?" Ellie asked.

" _No more than we were before."_

"Keep moving," Gibbs said.

Then, Tony thought he heard a voice. It was a strange voice, though. It sounded like Tim if his voice had been run through a distorter.

" _You will die! All will die!"_

Gibbs pulled out his gun.

"Boss! That's not the plan!"

"If I shoot, it won't be Tim I'm killing," Gibbs said, grimly. Then, he gestured for Tony to go ahead of him. Abby and Jimmy were behind, ready to be called on for their part...if they got that far. Ellie was beside Gibbs. Both were ready to cover Tony.

"Go," Gibbs said.

Tony nodded, determined to hit on the first try. There would be no need for Gibbs to shoot and kill Tim (if he was still in there).

They moved down the hallway quickly. The closer they got, the stronger the shaking and the wind got. By the time they reached the corner, it was like walking through a gale. It was so loud that they couldn't even speak to each other.

Gibbs tapped him on the shoulder and counted down from three.

When he pointed, Tony ran around the corner and found himself on a wide, open platform, There were high walls on three sides, but one whole side was just open. Ducky and Vardr were pinned against one wall, and Tim...or whoever...looked ready to kill someone.

And Ducky was the only person there.

"Hey, dirtbag!" he shouted as loudly as he could, straining to make himself heard over the wind.

The being turned toward him. And Tony finally got a good look at possessed Tim, and he could see right away that Tim was not there. This was someone else, and those red eyes were blazing. He could see what Jimmy had meant. There was no mistaking this for Tim McGee. It might be his body, but it sure wasn't him, and that body was in a terrible state already. Tony regretted that, if they succeeded, he'd be making it worse.

"You will die, too!"

"You, first," Tony said.

Then, he raised the dart gun and fired.

He hit perfectly. The dart hit right in the torso, just beside the shoulder.

The person who was _not_ Tim, looked down at the dart in confusion. He pulled it out and looked at it, disdainfully.

"What is this, human?" he asked.

The wind ebbed as he stared at the dart. Then, his already-pale face seemed to go completely white and he fell to his knees.

"What have you...done..."

"Stopped you, I hope," Tony said.

He almost growled at Tony, but then, he fell forward onto his face and the wind stopped completely.

Instantly, Ducky was running over, Vardr on his heels.

"Turn him over, Anthony. Quickly."

Tony did as he was told.

"What are you going to do, Ducky?"

"Give him more antibiotics and hope that I don't kill Timothy in the process."

"Antibiotics? He's possessed, not sick."

"He is. What is a possession but an invading organism?" Ducky said.

He grabbed a syringe from his ankle and brought it up.

Then, Tim's eyes open and they were still red.

"You will not!" he shouted, although his voice was strangely strangled.

He surged to his feet , pulling away from Ducky and Tony as if they weren't even there, and started to run toward the edge.

"I will kill this body! You will not stop me! I will still destroy!"

Before any of the humans could stop him, Vardr leapt at him, seemingly from nowhere. He wasn't a huge dog, but he appeared to be all muscle. Growling, he collided with the evil thing and knocked it to the floor, his weight keeping the weakened being from going on.

"Grab him!" Ducky said.

Gibbs and Ellie ran over and grabbed an arm each, holding him down, but he had recovered enough to fight back and was too strong for them. Jimmy and Abby joined in holding him down. Vardr was growling.

"Vardr! Back!"

"Vardr?" the being repeated, breathlessly. "No!"

Ducky knelt down and dosed the evil being with the antibiotics. He screamed out a wordless protest and began seizing.

"You can't stay in this body and live," Ducky said. "We will not let you. It's your choice. Leave it or die yourself within it!"

Another bestial scream and red flowed out of Tim's eyes.

"Now!" Gibbs shouted.

The red mist began to coalesce when the faint purple glow of Porphyrogene swirled around it. There were shapes and bursts of light and then the two colors streamed upward into the sky and vanished.

There was a moment of total silence and then the palace began to shake.

"I think it's time to get out of here," Tony said.

"I think we don't have time," Ducky said, looking around.

He seemed strangely calm with that statement.

"Stay here."

"What? Are you crazy?"

Ducky smiled. "I may be, but wait. We won't make it out. So why bother?"

The shaking increased and the rubble that had created the palace began to spiral up and around, the pieces of the buildings separated out and, within a minute, they were back in Vance's office. The wall was still missing, but the building appeared to be intact.

"What just happened?" Ellie asked.

"It was Idalu's power that built the palace. Without that power, it returned to its former state," Ducky said.

"Did you _know_ that would happen?"

"No, but it seemed a valid guess."

"Idalu?"

"That is what the being told me to call it."

"What does that mean?"

"Evil, he said."

"Oh."

Then, they heard whining and looked down. Vardr was licking Tim's face and whining worriedly.

"Can we be sure that this is Tim?" Tony asked.

"Yes, because Vardr knows it's Tim. He has known each time," Ducky said. "He needs a hospital. He has too many drugs in his body, to say nothing of what the possession may have done to him, and he is very weak."

Gibbs nodded and pulled out his phone.

"Vance, we need an ambulance."

There was a pause as he listened to whatever Vance was telling him about what the rest of the world had seen.

"Tim is back to himself, but he needs to get to a hospital. Now."

He listened for a moment longer and then hung up.

"It's coming."

"Good," Ducky said. "Timothy, can you hear me? Wake up, lad."

Tim's breathing was loud, fast and irregular.

"Come on, Timothy. Fight back now that you can."

Finally, Tim's eyes opened, just a little bit. Enough to see that they were green, not red.

"Very good, Timothy. He's gone now. Gone for good."

"H-Hurt...y-y-you?" Tim whispered.

"Not at all. I'm just fine."

"G-Good..."

Then, his eyes closed and he began to seize. Knowing there was nothing they could do about it, they let Tim go until the seizure stopped. When it did, the irregular breathing resumed, but Tim didn't regain consciousness.

Vance came through with getting help there. While the EMTs who came in were incredibly nervous, they did see how serious Tim's status was and they got him out quickly. Ducky gave as much information as he could, but then, they took him away and left everyone to stand, staring at each other in the middle of Vance's office.

"Duck, what can you tell us?" Gibbs asked.

"Not much, except that when I gave him the first injection, Idalu, the thing inside him, was affected. Drastically. I actually was able to speak to Timothy himself for a few moments. When Idalu resumed control, he was not as strong as he had been, but he was angered by it. I don't think he understood what had happened."

"No such thing as antibiotics the last time he was active," Gibbs said.

"What? How do you know that?"

"Because we had help from a spirit that was inside Vardr," Tony said. "And I can't believe I just said that out loud and meant it."

"A spirit?"

"Some guy that had his country destroyed by...that thing, only centuries ago. He didn't know how many."

"Where is he, now?"

"I don't know." Tony looked at Gibbs. "What do you think, Boss? Do you think he won?"

"I don't think we'll know," Ellie said. "If he won, he was going to be able to die, finally. If he lost, that...Idalu...probably was really weakened by everything and we won't see him again. Maybe not ever in our lifetime."

"While I don't like that much," Tony said, "if it means we never have to deal with him again, I'm all for it."

"Me, too," Abby said. "Is Tim going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Ducky said. "He's received an overdose of antibiotics. His body was reacting as if he had sepsis and what did you shoot him with?"

"Fentanyl, as high a dose as we could get without killing him."

"It shouldn't interact with the antibiotic, but all in all, Timothy's body has been severely weakened and I have no idea what to expect from his...soul."

"I should have known you'd end up in my office in the end, Gibbs."

They all turned and saw Vance standing in the doorway.

"I'm glad you're all right, Ducky," he said.

"I am. Thank you. How are you?"

Vance grimaced. "I've been better."

"I think we all could say the same."

"And McGee?"

"I don't know. We freed him from his captor, but he was very weakened by it. What the end result will be..."

Vance sighed. "Might be easier if he didn't make it."

"What?!" Abby asked, almost screeching. "How could you say that Tim would be better off dead? How could you even _suggest_ it?"

"Do you know what the world is going to have seen? They won't know that he was...possessed or whatever happened in here," Vance said. "They'll see a man who killed multiple people for no reason, caused great destruction and lived through it. I'm not saying that I wish McGee was dead. I'm saying that _he_ might feel that way by the end of all this. You have no idea how much it took to keep them from just bombing this whole place and reducing it to rubble."

"I doubt a direct assault like that would have succeeded," Ducky said. "Even in his weakened state, he would have known how to take on an attack like that. It would have led to more lives being taken. As it was, I did what I could to reduce the number of casualties. I can only hope that Timothy does not know what his body did."

"I don't think that will happen," Vance said. "Even if he doesn't remember, the world will."

"True enough." Ducky sighed and stared out at the river. "What now?"

"Now, you all can do what I know you want to do and I'll try to clean up this mess in the best way possible."

"What way will that be, Leon?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't know, Gibbs," Vance said, a little stiffly. "If you're asking whether or not I'm going to throw McGee under the bus, the answer is no. I just don't know what it will take, but I will be shooting for the best end to this. Now, get out of here before the government and media descend and you can't get away."

Tony looked at Gibbs and waited for his decision. He would probably want to go to the hospital, but there was no way of knowing with Gibbs.

"Which hospital?" Gibbs asked.

"I told them to take him to Bethesda, no matter what."

"Thanks. The way clear?"

"Clear enough."

Gibbs nodded.

"Let's go."

Whatever else they knew, Tim would need them.

If he survived.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 _He looked around the room. It was empty. No dais. No throne._

 _No evil man coming at him._

 _He seemed to be alone._

 _But he didn't feel alone. He felt like there were many people around, just out of sight, just out of reach._

" _You are not alone."_

 _He spun around, searching and searching for the source of the voice._

" _You are not alone. Do not let down your guard."_

 _One more spin and he found himself facing a large ornate mirror._

 _A mirror! Just like the one he'd seen that..._

 _That evil face looking back at him. That evil man had looked at him and smiled and then, jumped at him and then..._

 _The glass of the mirror exploded outward. He raised his arm up to protect his face._

 _A ghostly river began to pour out of the glass. It wasn't water. It was more like the ghost of water. It flowed across the room and toward him. He couldn't escape it! And while it came closer and closer, he heard voices._

 _Laughing voices._

 _But this was not joyous laughter._

 _It was...evil._

 _He lost his balance in the ghostly river and began to fall toward it, knowing that he would die in the river..._

He opened his eyes, breathing heavily and looking around in a panic.

"Timothy! Timothy, calm down. Just relax."

There was a restraint. He couldn't get up. He couldn't get up! He was stuck again! Trapped inside his own body! A prisoner!

The panic ratcheted up by a factor of ten or more. He tried to get up, but he couldn't. He tried and tried to get away.

Those eyes! Those horrible eyes!

He tried to talk, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't do anything except panic and so that's what he did.

"Take them off, Jethro."

"Are you sure we should do that, Ducky? He doesn't seem in control right now."

"I'll do it, then."

There were words and familiar voices, but all he could do was react to his panic.

Then, the restraint was gone and he tried to get up, but he still couldn't.

"Please, Timothy! Listen! Hear what I'm saying to you! You're safe!"

Suddenly, there were eyes looking at him.

Blue eyes.

"Tim, you're okay, now."

He tried to speak, but he still couldn't make himself do it.

"You can't talk right now. You're on a ventilator. You hear me?"

The words had meaning, and he nodded.

"Calm down."

He listened and tried to obey. As soon as his panic ebbed, it was replaced by a deep exhaustion that he had to give in to. His eyes closed and he fell toward sleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky sighed with relief as Tim relaxed and slept.

"It was Timothy, not Idalu."

"We don't have to tie him back up, do we?" Abby asked.

"No," Ducky said, firmly. "I might understand why they chose to restrain him, but Timothy will not be tied up like an animal. That was panic, not an intent to harm."

Tim didn't look good. It had been a relief to see that his eyes were still green as they should be, but he was running a high fever. He was on a ventilator because his breathing was so messed up and they were trying to regulate it. His heart monitor showed an erratic beat that bordered on tachycardic. He was pale and had been almost unreasoning when he had awakened.

"Will he be okay?" Ellie asked. "He looks really bad."

"I hope so."

They all resumed their seats. Ducky watched as Tim lay there, not moving. Hopefully, they would be able to remove the ventilator soon. The overdose of the antibiotic in combination with the near-overdose of fentanyl had done a number on Tim's body. That he had survived this long did bode well for his continued survival, but there was no way of knowing how long his recovery would take.

 _We almost had to kill him in order to save him,_ Ducky thought to himself.

And if they had, what kind of victory would it have been? They would have had to lose in order to win. A classic Pyrrhic victory.

"He's going to come out of this," Gibbs said.

That was all. A declaration of what he wished to be fact.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim didn't awaken again for hours afterward. Ellie and Jimmy had to leave. Vance called and asked Ducky to come and give his account of what happened. That left Gibbs, Tony and Abby, waiting for Tim to wake up.

His eyes fluttered open. Gibbs moved over to the bed right away, in case he panicked again.

"McGee, you're still in the hospital," he said. "Don't try to talk."

Tim blinked a few times. Then, he brought his hand up to the tube going into his mouth and patted it.

"You have a ventilator."

Tim looked at Gibbs and then at the others. He didn't seem too sure about what was going on.

Then, he looked around again. He seemed to be searching for something.

"What is it, Tim?" Abby asked. She searched in her purse and brought out a pen and piece of paper.

Tim tried to write while being unable to move around much. His hands were shaking, but he tried.

 _how long_

"How long what?"

 _how long here_

"It's only been about a day."

 _va_

Then, he stopped writing.

"What, Tim?"

 _dog_

Tony laughed. "Vardr's at Ducky's place. He didn't like being left there, but we knew the hospital wouldn't let him in. He's fine."

A ghost of a smile. Then, he wrote again.

 _how long vent_

"The ventilator?"

A nod.

"I don't know. However long the doctor says you need it."

The pen slipped from Tim's shaking hands and he leaned back, seeming exhausted just by that brief interaction.

"We can talk more later, Tim," Tony said.

Abby started to reach out for her pen, but Tim picked it up again.

 _red eyes in  
_ _mirror eyes then  
_ _breaking glass  
_ _dreams  
_ _guardian_

The pen slipped from his fingers again and his eyes slipped closed. In moments, he seemed to be sleeping again.

Tony picked up the paper as Abby retrieved her pen.

"Okay, I don't get all this. He saw the red eyes himself? So was that when he was..." Then, Tony stopped. "Breaking glass. The mirror at that old house! Do you think that's where this thing was? Porphyrogene said that...I just wasn't even thinking about it."

"I have no idea," Abby said. "Maybe when he's not so tired and he can talk, it'll make more sense. What about the guardian?"

"Don't get that at all. Unless he meant Ducky."

Abby smiled. "Yeah. Ducky is definitely playing that role. Not sure that Tim would be thinking that way, though."

Gibbs could see that both Tony and Abby were getting tired. So was he, but until Tim was out of the woods, he was determined not to leave him alone. Part of him felt guilty for not telling Delilah that her boyfriend had been hovering at death's door, but while Tim was still unable to explain what he himself knew, maybe it was best to keep it as quiet as was possible. Besides that, Vance had already hinted to him, once, that this should be kept quiet for as long as they could.

"Go home and get some sleep. I'll stay until tomorrow."

"But Gibbs!" Abby protested. "I didn't even do anything, really! I want to stay!"

"Abby, go home. Come back tomorrow."

Abby pouted a little but then, she couldn't stifle a yawn.

"Okay, okay. I'm tired. I'll go home."

"Fine by me," Tony said. "Are we ignoring any media requests?"

"You have to ask?"

"Well, this was a weird thing. You never know when the media might actually be necessary."

"Go home, DiNozzo."

Tony and Abby both left and Gibbs took a breath and sat back. After the chaos of the last day, he was glad to have a few minutes to be alone and think about it. It was as if the world had suddenly become unreal. Tim had been possessed by an evil demon or some such thing? That being had been able to use powers to destroy, to kill, and to magically build a palace out of rubble...that had then returned to its original state after the being had left.

This kind of thing didn't happen in the real world. What did it mean? What would happen to Tim? What he'd gone through had been bad enough, but would the aftermath be worse?

Tim had known something about what had happened to him, but he hadn't known all of it. Gibbs hoped that Tim would awaken sooner rather than later. The longer it took for Tim to stabilize, the more likely it was that someone else would get the full story first and that the rest of them would have to wait.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim didn't wake again for another full day, and even after that, he was so weak and dazed that no one wanted to push him for details. The doctors did decide to remove the ventilator, but they kept him on a nasal cannula and oxygen supplement while he was recovering. Tim would sometimes ask about his dog, but he never said one word about being possessed or indicated that he had thought about what had been done to him. ...or what had been done by Idalu.

In addition, some of the things he said seemed to be a little off kilter, as if his brain hadn't quite caught up to the rest of the world and wasn't firing on all cylinders quite yet. As much as was possible, Gibbs tried to keep the rest of the world away from Tim. To a large degree, he succeeded. At this point, the government was trying to keep this as quiet as possible. They hadn't yet decided to make Tim into the fall guy. No one outside the Yard had managed to get a good look at the person who had caused all the havoc and those who had were currently sworn to secrecy.

How long this felicitous state would last was unknown, but as long as it could, Gibbs would keep it that way. The doctors who were treating him had decided to approach it as a particular bad incident of sepsis since his symptoms were very close to those of severe sepsis. That meant that he was being kept in the hospital for a few days to make sure that he'd recover.

After nearly a week, it became clear that they couldn't stay with him all the time. Vance had need of them at work, and they could hope that acting like things were normal would be a form of protection in and of itself.

It almost worked.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Fornell wasn't happy about what was about to happen. He'd been sent along with Agent Mallory in the hopes of keeping things running smoothly, but he had also been told to let Mallory do his job.

The problem was that Fornell couldn't see any sign that Mallory was concerned with doing his job. He was more concerned with creating a situation in which he would receive major accolades. Fornell hated people like that. He would much rather have had Sacks with him, but Sacks was currently on his honeymoon, and while it was a serious situation, it would seem strange for Fornell to pull him away from that.

What he did hope for was that the usually-protective MCRT would be there to act as guard dogs. Mallory might not care about listening to an FBI agent who was only a year away from retirement, but he _would_ care about a bunch of people who would not hesitate to use physical violence to protect their own.

When they got into Tim's room, Fornell was dismayed for two reasons. First, Tim was alone in the room. No attack dogs. Second, Tim still looked _really_ bad. Fornell hadn't seen Tim at the beginning of this whole thing, but if this was an improvement, he must have been at death's door.

Mallory didn't seem to notice any of that...or else, he didn't care.

"Agent McGee," he said.

Tim's eyes opened and he seemed more dazed than anything. His eyes fell on Agent Mallory and his face scrunched up a little.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Agent Daniel Mallory, FBI."

"FBI?" Tim repeated. "Why are you here? This is..." His voice trailed off and his eyes wandered. Then, they fell on Fornell and he actually smiled a little. "Hi, Fornell. How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are _you_ , Agent McGee?" he asked, hoping that Tim would clue into the fact that this wasn't a social visit.

It didn't work. Tim wasn't all there, and it was very obvious.

"I've been better. I feel like I'm stuck in first gear and everyone around me is going a hundred miles an hour."

"We have some questions for you, Agent McGee," Mallory said.

Tim's eyes wandered back to Mallory. "Oh? About what?"

"About the fact that last week the Navy Yard was destroyed..."

"...and repaired..." Fornell added quietly.

Mallory ignored him. "...was _destroyed_ and three people were killed. By you."

Fornell watched as Tim digested that, and he saw the moment he understood it. And it became clear that no one had told him about that and that he hadn't known. His heart sank. What a terrible way to learn about this.

"I didn't... I killed three people?"

"I wasn't aware that you were suffering from amnesia, Agent McGee. Why don't you tell me what you remember?" Mallory said, sounding very sarcastic.

"Not much," Tim said, his voice soft. "The Yard was destroyed?"

"There was _some_ damage," Fornell said. "Most of it is fine. What do you remember?"

Mallory glared at Fornell as Tim focused on him instead.

"I remember...Ducky. He was there. There was something in my head, a voice...those eyes."

Tim's own eyes started to glaze over a little bit.

"Then, Ducky again. My hand moved and things happened, but I tried to stop and it worked a little bit. Then, Gibbs. That's all."

"You don't remember destroying the Yard?" Mallory asked.

"No. How did I do that?"

Fornell suppressed a smile because Mallory clearly didn't want to get into methods when he couldn't actually explain them.

"Your team claims that you were possessed."

"Red eyes," Tim said softly. "The eyes were red...like a fire. I remember those eyes, but that's all."

"You expect me to believe that you don't remember anything that you did?"

"I...don't," Tim said.

Mallory started to lean in. "You have caused a nationwide panic, Agent McGee, and you expect me to believe that you're completely ignorant about what you did?"

"I killed three people?" Tim asked again.

"Yes, and we need to be able to tell their families the truth, not some half-baked story about their killer being possessed by the devil."

"Not the devil. Just evil," Tim said, but he wasn't looking at either of them. The horror in his expression told Fornell what Tim was thinking about.

Fornell had enough.

"Agent Mallory, I'd like to speak with you out in the hall, please."

Mallory looked like he was about to ignore him again, and so, instead of letting him dictate, Fornell grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the door.

"Thank you for your time, Agent McGee. I'm sorry that we disturbed you, and I hope you get to feeling better."

Tim didn't even reply. He looked extremely distressed, and Fornell made a mental note to call Gibbs.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?" Mallory asked. "You interrupted my investigation!"

"You weren't investigating," Fornell said. "Don't kid yourself. You came in here with a predetermined accusation and what you did was accost a very sick man."

"Are you seriously going to tell me that you believe Agent McGee was possessed?"

Fornell laughed at him. "Are you seriously going to tell _me_ that you believe that a normal human being could destroy the Yard and then rebuild it just by waving his hands? That's what happened. He waved his hands and a ball of fire destroyed a drone. You think that you can find a normal explanation for that? You're ridiculous."

"You were sent here as an assistant," Mallory said, ignoring what Fornell had reminded him of. "I'm going to report this."

"Feel free, and while you're throwing your imagined weight around, thinking that you're going to get me fired, I'd like you to think about something else. You may not know Agent McGee's team, but you are sticking your nose into a hornet's nest by trying to lay all the blame at Agent McGee's feet."

"Who else?"

"You have the story that was told. You have the facts. Just because you're too stupid and close-minded to acknowledge this new reality staring us all in the face doesn't change the facts. If something happens to Agent McGee because of what you did in there, if he suffers in any way from it, you had better be ready to defend yourself."

"From you?" Mallory scoffed.

"No. Not from me. From Agent Gibbs and his team. No matter how much clout you think you have, you are _not_ ready to face them down, and you won't get any help from me. Now, you have interrogated a sick man enough for one day. You are finished. If I have to drag you out of his room again by your ear, I will."

"You'll regret this," Mallory said.

Fornell laughed. "Not as much as you will."

Mallory glared and then stalked off down the hall, phone in hand. Fornell knew he was likely risking a reprimand by what he'd done, but the very fact that Mallory was refusing to listen to what was already known and was, instead, trying to force Tim to confess to doing it somehow on his own was a good indication of how foolish he was.

He shook his head and pulled out his own phone. He thought about checking on Tim again, but when he looked into the room, it appeared as though Tim had fallen asleep. Given how weak he'd seemed, Fornell wasn't surprised and figured it would be better to let him sleep. Quickly, he dialed Gibbs' number and waited for it to be answered.

" _What do you want, Fornell? I'm busy."_

"Gibbs, you're going to be furious, but you need to know what just happened with McGee."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

While Gibbs appreciated that Fornell had taken the time to let him know what had happened, he _was_ furious about it. The one time they had all been required to be at work was the time that the FBI had swooped in to try and tear Tim down.

The worst of it was that they were all involved in a thorough debriefing and couldn't leave yet. Tim would have to wait until the end of the day.

But from now on, Tim would _not_ be left alone. It was time to get Delilah back. They'd been told not to tell anyone and he'd been reluctant to bring her back anyway, but she could be there and she wouldn't let anyone at Tim. Probably, he should have done it sooner whether they wanted him to or not.

Too late to change that now, though.

He had been hoping to keep all that from Tim for a while longer.

"Agent Gibbs, we need to talk to you, now."

He looked over and sighed. His turn.

He nodded and went into the room.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

 _The water was like glass. Like a vast mirror. Instead of the rushing river, he was out in the middle of an ocean. He looked around and could see nothing. Then, he leaned over the side of the boat and looked down._

 _It was like looking in a mirror._

 _He saw himself._

 _No red, flaming eyes._

 _No evil intent._

 _And yet..._

 _He stared beyond his reflection and he thought he saw something more._

 _It was a city. A grand city, with towers and turrets all waving flags in the breeze._

 _All of it was under the water._

 _He tried to see the details, but the water kept him from it._

 _Until finally, as he squinted..._

Sitting up, Tim looked around, afraid of what he'd seen, brushing his hands at his arms, trying to keep away the...

The images began to fade.

What he was left with was a feeling of filth. He was dirty. His hands were red with the blood of those he had killed.

How could he, in good conscience, allow himself to stay here and live his life when he had taken the lives of others?

He couldn't.

Decision made, he looked at himself. He would have to do something, but he was in the hospital.

That was right. He remembered it now. He was in a hospital.

He couldn't stay here.

He pulled out the IV very roughly, watching as blood began to run down the back of his hand. He removed the cannula and was briefly grateful that the catheter had already been removed.

Then, he pulled on the scrubs they had left for him, although he had to pause to catch his breath a number of times. He had absolutely no energy for all this.

That didn't matter.

All that mattered was that he had killed three people and he didn't remember even doing it!

That was the only thing in the world that mattered. It didn't matter that he was tired, that he felt weak, that his hands were shaking. It didn't matter that he felt really hot and yet cold at the same time. None of that mattered.

And soon, nothing would matter.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs was chafing to leave. Normally, he would just leave when he wanted, but in this case, he needed to be here to make sure Tim didn't take the blame. He was sure that Vance would avoid that, but Vance was only one man, and he hadn't been there during the actual destruction, even if he could be a witness to what he had seen before the chaos had really begun.

His phone rang.

"Gibbs."

" _Agent Gibbs, I have some bad news for you. Agent McGee is missing. We've looked through the entire hospital and he's gone. It looks as though he snuck out on his own about two hours ago."_

"How did that happen? How did no one see him?"

" _I don't know how it happened. We've been checking on him regularly and I'm trying to get to the bottom of who missed his hourly check, but he's not in the hospital. You will need to find him."_

"You think?" Gibbs asked and then put down the phone.

"What is it, Boss?" Tony asked.

"McGee is missing. He left the hospital."

"We're going to look for him, right?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo. We are. Get Bishop and Ducky on it."

"Abby?"

"Have her see if she can track him down with his phone."

"Right. On it, Boss."

While Gibbs didn't want to leave, Tim's physical safety trumped his occupational safety, and unless he'd had a sudden dramatic recovery in the last eight hours, he was in no shape to be wandering around on his own.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

" _Boss, he's not at his place, but his car isn't here. He must have taken it."_

"Abby?"

" _Nothing. His phone is at his place."_

Gibbs stifled a sigh.

" _Boss, I don't want to suggest this...but maybe we should issue a BOLO?"_

Normally, that would be a good idea and they would have done it, first, but the problem was that they couldn't be sure that Tim would act sane enough that people wouldn't panic if they found him.

"Not yet."

" _Okay. Hey...maybe he went back to that house where we found the dog. He was talking about it when he first woke up, remember? Maybe...he'll go back to that. Want me to check?"_

"I'll go. You go back to NCIS and tell Vance that he has until I get back to lodge a formal complaint against the FBI and that Agent Mallory."

" _You could just tell him, Boss. I know where the house is."_

"You tell him that this is his only chance to avoid me dealing with it myself. And he doesn't want me dealing with it myself."

" _Then, what?"_

Gibbs smiled grimly. "Get another good idea in case this one doesn't pan out."

He hung up and turned toward Virginia. He knew where the house was. He didn't want to stop the other searches going on in case this wasn't where Tim was. He was glad Tony had thought of it, but still, it was a long shot. Tim had only been at that house once. Why would he go back?

It was another hour to Virginia, but when he pulled up at the house, he saw Tim's car in front. Tony had been right. Gibbs called Ducky.

" _What is it, Jethro?"_

"I found Tim's car at the house in Virginia."

" _You'd like me to come?"_

"Yeah. Don't know what I'm going to find."

" _I have Timothy's dog with me. We'll be there as quickly as we can."_

"Good."

Gibbs headed into the house and started looking around. The house was as dreary as the photos had looked before.

"Tim!" he called out.

"In here, Boss," came a weak voice.

Gibbs was relieved to hear Tim respond, but he didn't sound very good or very happy. He walked into what must have been the living room.

Tim was sitting on a moth-eaten couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. Gibbs walked over and sat beside him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I didn't think anyone would think to look here," Tim said.

"Tony did."

Tim smiled a little. "Of course, he did. He always messes things up when he gets worried."

"Why are you here?"

"This is where it all started. I remembered. I looked in the mirror and I saw those red eyes. It wasn't my reflection. It was...that...thing. He looked at me. He smiled and then, he jumped at me. He made me forget, and I did, but I remembered. This is where it began. I decided that this was the right place for it to end."

Then, Tim reached to his lap and pulled out his gun. His hands were shaking as he stared at it.

"I've been sitting here for hours trying to pull the trigger."

"Why?" Gibbs asked.

"Because I killed three people."

" _You_ didn't."

"That...guy from the FBI, the one with Fornell. I can't remember his name. He said I did," Tim said.

Gibbs didn't like hearing Tim so uncertain, nor did he like knowing that Tim was holding his gun and had come here with the intention of killing himself.

"You know that I'm not going to let you do this, don't you?"

Tim nodded at the floor. "Why do you think I came here? You would have found me anywhere else. If only Tony hadn't thought of it, too."

"You really want to die?"

Tim wouldn't look at him, but he nodded again as he stared at the gun.

"No, you don't."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you haven't done it yet. If you had wanted to, you wouldn't have to convince yourself to do it. We've been looking for you for hours. You could have done it if you really wanted to."

And Gibbs was so glad that he hadn't.

"I need to take the gun, okay?"

Tim nodded and handed it to him. He was still shaking.

"Tim, it wasn't you doing it. That FBI agent was out of line."

"How do you know what he said?"

"Fornell called me."

"He said I destroyed the Yard. He said that three people got killed."

"The Yard is fine, except for Vance's office and a few windows, and those people aren't your fault."

Tim looked at his shaking hands.

"It was my hands," he said, his voice now shaking, too. "I don't remember doing it, but my hands committed murder. Three times!"

"You were not the one in control, Tim."

"The taxi driver didn't know who I was, but the FBI knew it was me. How long will it take for the whole world to know that I was the one who did all that? I don't want people to know that I was the one who killed people and destroyed the Yard. I could have killed Ducky. How understanding would you be if I had?"

"It wasn't you. You said yourself that you don't even remember it."

"But the world does."

"Tim, it's going to work out, and you would see that if you were thinking clearly."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

Gibbs reached out and put his hand on Tim's forehead. As he had thought, Tim's fever hadn't gone away. He was still hot, and he could feel Tim trembling, probably from whatever energy he'd expended in getting here.

"You have a fever and look like you're ready to collapse."

"I hate knowing what I did. There's no reason to deal with that. There's no reason to suffer with it. One moment and I could escape it all. No one to look at me and wonder if I'm me. No one to look at me and wonder if I'm sane. No one to look at me and know that I'm a murderer. No one to look at me."

"I can't let you do this."

Tim nodded. He still hadn't looked at Gibbs.

"I know," he said, almost in a whisper. "What are you going to do, instead?"

"Make sure you have time to get better and get help."

"Help? With what?" Tim asked.

"With this," Gibbs said, holding out the gun.

Tim glanced at the gun and then turned his eyes back down.

"What if I don't want help with that?"

"You're going to get it anyway."

"What's the point? Only that could make all this go away."

"No. You can get away from it other ways."

"I don't want to talk to anyone about what happened. Who's going to understand? No one. They'll all look at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am. I can't tell."

Tim was still shaking. Gibbs knew that he needed to get back to the hospital. He needed more time to recover. He definitely was not thinking clearly, and it wasn't going to get better by staying here. Still, he wanted Tim to agree, rather than force it on him. He just couldn't find the way to that point yet.

He decided to wait for Ducky to get there, rather than try to persuade Tim again. Tim covered his head with his hands and didn't speak. He didn't tell Gibbs to leave. He didn't try anything. Probably, he was too tired to try anything.

After a long silence, Gibbs heard a car pull up and then, he heard a different sound than he had expected.

The click of paws on the floor. He looked over and saw Vardr coming into the room. He stopped and whined a little at Gibbs and the ran over to Tim. He stepped in between Tim's legs and popped his head up between Tim's arms and started licking Tim and whining worriedly.

"That's another reason to get help."

"What?" Tim asked.

"Your dog."

"Maybe not mine. Someone might claim him."

"No one will claim him. He's a stray. He's yours."

"How can you know that?"

"Because the spirit who fought the thing inside you told us."

"Maybe he'd be happier with someone else."

"This is the happiest he's been."

Gibbs looked back and saw Ducky in the doorway. He held up his hand. Just a moment for Tim to think about something outside of his confusion and horror.

"He wants to be with you, Tim. He was trying to protect you all through this. He knew when you were you and when that being was in control."

Tim said nothing. Gibbs gestured for Ducky to come over. Ducky smiled, even though Gibbs could see his dismay at Tim's state.

"Timothy."

"My eyes were red," Tim said. "I'm so afraid of seeing them that way again."

"You don't have to worry about that," Ducky said. "You are yourself. I know it. Jethro knows it. Timothy, let us help you."

"What if he's still in there?"

"He's not."

"What if he is?" Tim asked. "I'd rather be dead than have him in me."

"He's not," Ducky said again.

"How would you know? You didn't know before. Maybe he's hiding deep inside me and he'll suddenly take over again."

"Timothy, you are still very ill and you need to give yourself time to recover."

Tim shook his head.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"I want to get away from everything that happened. I don't want people asking me about it. I don't want people knowing about it. I don't want people to...I don't want..."

Tim swayed a little bit and his eyes closed. Gibbs steadied him.

"You're going back to the hospital, Tim," he said.

"Don't want to."

"We're not giving you a choice," Gibbs said.

Suddenly, Vardr backed away from Tim and started growling. Ducky stood up, looking worried.

"I was afraid of that," Tim said.

Tim looked up at them for the first time.

His eyes were red.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Jethro, get back!" Ducky said.

He was looking, not at Tim, but at Vardr. Vardr who had known so clearly when the being had taken over and when he hadn't.

Gibbs backed away, but he didn't draw his gun. As Tim stood and faced them, he was clearly so weak that he would not have access to the same power Idalu had used before. Even so, it was also clear that he was not himself any longer.

" _Death has reared himself a throne!"_

The voice was strange and distorted as it came from Tim's lips.

"No! Get out of me!"

That was Tim's voice and he fell forward to his knees.

" _I will build a palace! 'Time-eaten towers that tremble not!'"_

As he stared at them, they watched as his eyes continually changed from green to red and his expression shifted from frightened to evil. ...from Tim to Idalu and back again. Tim was still shaking violently as he tried to fight back.

" _I destroy all I can reach! If all I can reach is you, I will destroy you!"_

"No!"

The battle didn't seem to be between anyone but Tim and Idalu.

Then, Tim looked at Vardr...with his green eyes.

"Help me, Vardr!" he said.

"What is..." Gibbs began. He started to raise Tim's gun, ready to fire, but unsure if that was the only option.

"Wait, Jethro," Ducky said. "Wait."

Vardr looked at Tim and whined.

Then, Idalu was back and he looked at Vardr as well, but his expression became one of worry.

" _You."_

Vardr began to growl and as he growled he seemed to grow in size and he began to glow.

Then, Tim was back again.

"Please, Vardr! Please!"

Idalu laughed as he resumed control.

" _Destroy this body! I will still be the victor! Death is my victory! No matter what death it is! If there is death, I win! 'Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, shall do ME reverence!'"_

Then, as an almost blinding light, Vardr leapt forward at Tim with a savage growl. Ducky thought he could see another shape of Vardr coming from the other side, but he was positive that there had only been one dog there. Still, what dog could do what Vardr was now doing?

Tim began to scream, but was it Tim or was it Idalu? It was impossible to tell.

The light suffused both dog and man and Ducky couldn't see what was happening.

Then, there was a great wind that blew outward from the light. Ducky was almost knocked off his feet, but Gibbs helped steady him in the howling gale.

"What's going on?" Gibbs shouted over the sound.

"I have no idea!"

Another burst of light, this time a strange red. For just a moment, it was as if the entire world had turned red. All white light was gone. It was just red.

Another burst of wind, this time powerful enough to knock them both off their feet.

" _NOOOOOOOO!"_

Then, a sudden silence.

The light faded away.

All that remained was Tim and Vardr. Only one dog, not two. Ducky decided he'd imagined it in all the chaos.

Tim was lying, spread-eagled, on his back, unmoving.

Vardr was whining and nudging Tim's face with his nose.

Gibbs got up and helped Ducky stand as well. Then, they both hurried over to Tim. Vardr looked at them for a few seconds and then went back to whining at Tim.

"Duck..." Gibbs said.

Ducky knelt down and felt for a pulse.

He let out a sigh of relief.

"He's still alive, Jethro. There's a pulse. It's weak, but he's alive."

"What happened?"

"I don't have the slightest idea, but I'm getting the feeling that Vardr is more than just a stray dog. What does the name mean?"

"Mean? I didn't know it meant anything," Gibbs said. "Sounds like a made-up word to me."

"It must mean something. Idalu recognized it."

Tim let out a strangled moan.

"Timothy? Can you hear me?"

His eyes opened slightly.

They were green.

"Timothy."

"Vardr," Tim whispered.

Vardr barked and started to lick Tim's face.

"Massartu. ...guardian."

"Timothy?"

Tim took a few breaths and then looked at Ducky.

"Guard dog," he said.

"Yes, it does appear that he is that," Ducky said. "We need to get you back to the hospital, Timothy."

Tim nodded slightly. Ducky looked at Gibbs and, together, they bent down to lift Tim to his feet. Vardr began dancing along with them, nudging Tim to move, even when Tim seemed scarcely able to hold his head up by himself, let alone walk.

"Will you let us take you back to the hospital?"

Tim nodded.

They almost carried him out to Gibbs' car, settled him in the back with Vardr beside him. Somehow, there was no question that Vardr would be with Tim. Tim was lying on the seat with his eyes closed. Vardr was beside him, licking at his face and nudging his limp hands, by turns. There was no question that Tim was himself, and that he was wiped out.

"What do you think, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky looked at Tim.

"I don't know. I thought it was all over a week ago. The question is if he came back or if he never left. And how much of Tim's emotion was due to being controlled by this being?"

"And is he really gone, now?"

"He seemed afraid of Vardr. I suppose that he might be something that will keep this being away."

"Why, though?"

Ducky laughed. "After what you saw in there, is there any question of why?"

"But what happened?"

"I don't know. I thought that Vardr was a just a strange-looking stray dog. Timothy doesn't seem to have thought anything else."

"But that name. If it means something..."

"You told me that this Porphyrogene said that the being who is possessed is affected by the possessor. Perhaps, some of what Idalu knew bled over into Timothy's mind. Or maybe Vardr himself gave Timothy the name."

Gibbs actually seemed at a loss, not that Ducky blamed him. Reality had changed so suddenly. Not two weeks ago, any implication that it was possible that a person could be literally possessed by some kind of demonic lifeform would have been laughed at, even by Tim himself. That it appeared to be not only possible but to have actually occurred seemed to have turned the world into a foreign place.

"What happened to the world?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing," Ducky said. "What's happened is that our knowledge of it has become wider. We have been very quick to dismiss the things said and done in the past as mere superstition. Perhaps, we should give them more credit than we have."

Gibbs took a breath and let it out quickly.

"For now, let's just get Timothy back to the hospital in the secure wing with one of us by him until we know just how deeply his desire for death goes. ...with Vardr there as well, no matter what it takes to convince the hospital to let him in."

Gibbs nodded and got into his car. Ducky watched them leave. Then, he looked back at the house. He didn't know if Idalu remained or if he had survived the assault, but he had no intention of remaining here any longer than was necessary. They would get Tim's car taken care of later.

He got into his own car and drove away.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs looked back at Tim. He was still limp, but Gibbs could hear him breathing.

"McGee?"

No response.

"Tim?"

Still nothing.

"Vardr, is he okay?"

Vardr whined and barked once. Then, Gibbs heard Tim shift around on the seat.

"Where am I?"

"You're in my car, McGee," Gibbs said, but he was relieved to hear Tim talking. "How do you feel?"

"Like a thousand elephants have been jumping on me. Maybe...doing a kick line or something."

"Creative. Do you remember what happened?"

"I was back at the house. I was going to kill myself."

"Did you want to?"

"I don't know. He was telling me to. Made sense."

"If it makes sense to you while you have a fever of over a hundred degrees, it doesn't make sense."

Tim actually laughed a little.

"That makes sense."

Gibbs smiled, too. A joke was a good sign. He hoped.

"Vardr?" Tim suddenly asked.

Vardr barked softly.

"My guard dog," Tim said. "My guardian."

Silence fell again.

"Where did you get that name, Tim?" Gibbs asked, more to keep Tim awake than anything.

"Seemed right. First night I took him home. He looked at me...and it was the right name."

With everything else that had gone crazy in the last week, Gibbs supposed that a dog making his name known to his new owner wasn't the worst thing to believe.

"What else do you remember?"

"You were there."

"Yeah."

"Ducky was there."

"Yeah."

"I was going to die, but you didn't let me."

"What were you doing before I got there?"

"Trying to stay alive."

"So you didn't want to die?"

"I don't know. Sometimes, I did. Sometimes, I didn't."

"And now?"

"I don't know."

Vardr whined again. Gibbs glanced into the back seat and saw Tim, pale and weak, smiling a little at his dog. Even with how ill he looked, that more than anything gave Gibbs hope that Tim was going to be okay.

Tim said nothing more on the way back to the hospital. When they arrived, Gibbs got Tim into a room in the secure wing. Until they were sure that Tim was no longer suicidal, it would be better safe than sorry. There was no way of telling while Tim was so weak and feverish.

Once he was settled back in a bed, back on an IV with supplemental oxygen, and back under the watchful eyes of Gibbs, Ducky and Vardr, Tim went to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

 _He looked around and around. Where was he? He was always around, just out of sight._

" _No, he is gone."_

 _He spun around once more. There was a man standing before him. He looked normal, but he wasn't. There was a timeless quality to him that bespoke much experience._

" _I have searched throughout and there is nothing remaining of him. You have only yourself."_

" _Is he dead?" he asked, somehow surprised that he could speak._

" _Can a thing which does not live ever truly die?"_

" _I don't know."_

" _Neither do I," the man said, smiling. "But I do know that he is gone from within you. Whether that is due to death or annihilation or just a reprieve for mankind, I cannot say."_

" _How do you know all this? Who are you?"_

 _The man smiled. "Merely a traveler."_

" _A traveler? Through minds?"_

" _When the occasion calls for it. I prefer more...physical travels."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _I mean that I like traveling. Nothing more. Nothing less."_

" _Where am I?"_

" _You're in a hospital, but this place..." The man looked around. "You should look in that mirror."_

" _No," he said. "No, that's what started this."_

" _Yes, it is. Look in the mirror."_

" _No."_

" _Yes."_

 _A large ornate mirror had appeared on the wall. It was not the same as the other mirror had been. It was somehow...better. Beautiful, not gaudy. Lovely._

" _Why do I need to look in the mirror?"_

" _To see who you are."_

" _I know who I am."_

" _Are you sure?"_

 _He walked to the mirror, but he was afraid to look. He remembered that evil face looking back at him. He remembered the flaming eyes staring back at him._

" _Look at yourself."_

 _Tentatively, he looked into the mirror._

 _He saw himself, a man with bright, inquisitive green eyes, staring back. No trace of red, no trace of flames._

 _No trace of evil._

Tim opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

No mirror there. Just boring acoustical tile.

He looked around.

Gibbs was sleeping in a chair and Vardr was sleeping on his chest. He lay back and stared at the ceiling above him. He'd been having a lot of dreams lately. What had that one been from?

Then, he thought he heard something. Was he hearing with his ears? Or was it just in his mind? He didn't know, but he heard it all the same.

" _You have nothing to fear from yourself. The evil is gone, and it is just you. Do not fear yourself."_

"Just me," Tim whispered.

"No. Not just you."

Tim looked over.

"Hi, Boss."

"How are you feeling?"

"Terrible."

"Your fever is going down."

"Good. I still feel terrible."

Gibbs leaned forward.

"You feeling good enough to talk?"

"I guess so."

Tim put the bed up so that he could easily look at Gibbs. He wasn't sure he could lift his head for any length of time. He felt like he'd been sick for weeks.

"You still wish you were dead?"

Well, that had moved to a very serious topic quickly. Tim wasn't sure he wanted to talk about that, but he could understand why Gibbs would think about it.

"Do we have to?"

"Eventually, yes."

Tim sighed. "Will I have to go through this again?" he asked. "Because if the answer is yes, then, my answer is yes. I'd rather be dead than ever have to deal with this again."

"Would you kill yourself?"

Tim thought about it, and he could still feel that horrible sensation of being controlled, the knowledge that he had been the instrument in killing people, knowing that such an evil being...and the fact that no one would really understand what happened, that they would think _he_ was the one responsible.

"I don't want to be blamed for what happened, not by anyone."

"Including yourself?"

"Maybe. Being dead would be easier."

"Is that what you want?"

"I don't know," Tim said. "Right now...all I am is tired. I'm tired. I'm hot. I just don't want to deal with anything." He leaned back and looked at the ceiling instead of at Gibbs. "If being dead would allow that..."

"But is that what you want?"

"I don't know."

"That's why you're staying here, for now."

"Yeah, makes sense."

"Delilah's going to be here soon."

"Does she know?"

"She doesn't know anything yet, but that you're in the hospital but okay."

"So you lied to her," Tim said. He didn't feel okay in any sense of the word. Okay was _not_ how he felt.

"For now."

"I don't want to have to see what people say about me. I don't want to have government people come and tell me that I'm a murderer. I don't want to have people look at me and think I'm crazy. Tell me, Boss. How am I going to get away from all that?"

"Time."

"I hate that answer."

"I'm not surprised."

"No other answer?"

"No."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, it does."

"And yet, you're telling me that it would be better if I stay alive?"

"Yeah."

"I wish you wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I believe you," Tim said, with a sigh. It was true. He did believe Gibbs. He just didn't like it. He could believe that he wasn't thinking clearly, that his mind had been twisted by everything. It was just that right now, how he thought and felt was how he thought and felt. It wasn't an act he was putting on. Death really did seem like a viable option at this point.

...but it would take too much effort to achieve it.

"Tim, you're going to be okay. Give yourself some time. Maybe talk to someone."

Tim shook his head.

"No shrink is going to be able to help me with having been possessed, Boss," Tim said with a humorless laugh. "And I'm not going to deal with some guy telling me that it didn't really happen, that I really did kill three people." Tim felt his throat tighten up at the thought. "I killed three people."

"You didn't."

"My body did."

"But _you_ didn't."

"That doesn't seem to matter."

"It should."

"But it doesn't."

"I know someone who'll understand."

"Who?"

"Ducky."

"Why him?"

"Because he was there the whole time. He knows."

Tim found that even with a suggestion being given, he couldn't make a decision, not even when that decision was simply saying yes or no.

"I'm just tired, Boss."

"Okay. Then, sleep."

"Okay."

Tim closed his eyes and tried to escape from the world for a while.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Delilah sat in her wheelchair, staring at a door. She had just been told an unbelievable story and then been told to believe it. She was supposed to believe that all the chaos she had seen on TV happening at the Yard was because Tim had been _possessed_ by some...thing, that he had strange powers, that...that he had been _possessed_! She had seen the video. It was unbelievable, too, but it was real. The news reels hadn't been clear enough to identify the culprit. Now, she was sitting outside of Tim's room in the secure wing of the hospital, trying to build up the courage to go in and see him. Her mind was supplying all sorts of ridiculous images of what Tim might look like. Some of the more ridiculous images were the ones that had Tim looking like some kind of devil, complete with horns and cloven hooves.

What made everything worse was the knowledge that Tim was in a state that he _needed_ to be in the secure wing, that whatever had happened had affected him so badly.

All in all, opening this door wasn't something she wanted to do.

But she couldn't _not_ open the door. After everything she and Tim had gone through after the bombing, simple fear couldn't be enough to drive her away, even if the fear wasn't the same as they had experienced before.

Nodding to herself, she knocked once and then opened the door.

What she saw dismayed her, not because any of what she had imagined was true, but because Tim looked so awful. He was clearly just recovering from something that may have almost killed him. He was so pale. He was on an IV. To Delilah, it seemed as though Tim had been deathly ill.

Or possessed.

"Tim?" she said hesitantly.

A large mass that she had not really paid attention to suddenly sat up and barked at her.

A dog. A strange-looking wrinkly-faced dog. This must be the one that Tim had found and decided to take in. The picture Tim had sent hadn't been very clear.

 _What did he say he'd named it?_

She couldn't remember.

"Tim?" she said again.

Tim's eyes opened and the weakness in his body was reflected in the pain in his eyes. She rolled closer to the bed and then tentatively held out her hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Tim didn't speak. He just shook his head and closed his eyes again. The dog began to whine and nuzzle Tim's hand, as if trying to get him to respond to her.

Tim's eyes opened again and he lifted his hand and took hold of hers, but his grip was so very weak. It broke her heart to see him so low.

"They told you what happened?" he asked.

Delilah nodded.

"Do you believe it?"

"I don't know. It's..."

"Hard to believe. I know."

"Why you?"

"Bad luck. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"How long will you be in here?"

"Until I stop wishing I was dead."

Delilah tightened her grip on his hand. The worst part of this was how dead his voice sounded already. There was no overt emotional upheaval. Just a tired resignation.

"No, Tim. You can't want that."

"Yes, I can."

She reached out and put her hand on his cheek and noticed how warm he was.

"You have a fever."

"Yeah. It's going down, they tell me."

"This isn't as hot as you've been?"

"No. It's been worse. A lot of things have been worse, but that doesn't mean they're better, now."

Delilah rolled her chair as close to Tim's bed as she could possibly get. Then, she leaned over and pulled Tim close enough that she could kiss him and then hug him tightly.

"No, Tim. You can't give up. You wouldn't let me give up. I can't let you."

"Gibbs won't, either. Actually, no one is...including Vardr."

"Vardr?"

"My dog. He saved me. He literally saved my life."

Delilah let Tim go and looked at the dog. Vardr looked at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Gibbs and Ducky both saw it happen."

Delilah nodded. If it were just Tim who had seen and experienced it, that would be one thing, especially given his current state, but there were other witnesses. The idea that _Gibbs_ would make up something like this was ludicrous. Not that he couldn't lie, but if he was going to lie, he would say something more believable.

"I can't give him up," Tim said. "He's my guard dog."

Delilah hugged Tim again.

"Then, I can hardly say no, can I." Anything to make Tim feel better...at least, for now.

She looked at the dog and then held out her hand. Vardr looked at it from a few different angles, sniffed it, licked it and then nudged it, trying to get his head underneath it so she could pet him. She smiled and did as requested. His hair was very coarse, almost bristly, but he looked like he was enjoying her attention. She couldn't help but smile. Something about him made her feel better. She didn't know what it was.

Vardr settled back down on the bed, his head nestled between his paws and he looked very contented.

"I haven't seen him look so happy since I found him. ...or he found me. I don't know which it was. At least, he's stopped licking my face every time I fall asleep."

Tim was almost smiling, and Delilah was glad to see it. She smiled, too.

"I don't blame him."

Tim actually laughed a little. "I don't remember you _ever_ licking my face. That's a little weird, you know."

Delilah smiled. "I agree."

The smile didn't last, though. The pain returned to his eyes and Vardr whined a little.

"He seems to know how you feel," she said.

"He's a special dog," Tim said.

"I can see that. Tim...what are you going to do?"

"Lay here, I guess."

"That can't be the answer, forever."

"I know that. But it can be the answer, for now. Maybe...maybe after a while, I won't want the answer to be me being dead."

"It won't be."

"Maybe."

Delilah sat with Tim until he fell asleep again.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs hung up his phone and waited. He had told Vance that he would let NCIS handle it all officially, but that wasn't going to stop him from doing his part.

One of his team had been attacked and he didn't accept that kind of thing, not from anyone. However, he also had to acknowledge that he couldn't just wale on the guy like he wanted to.

Suddenly, Agent Mallory walked out of the building. Gibbs strode forward.

"Agent Mallory?"

He paused. "Yes?"

"Good." Gibbs reached him, grabbed Agent Mallory by the lapels of his jacket and pushed him against the side of his car.

"Hey! What's going on?"

"You're lucky that Agent McGee is still alive."

"What? Why?"

Gibbs leaned in close to him and lowered his voice. "Because if he had died, you wouldn't just be facing the possibility of losing your job. You'd have to worry about losing your _life_. Agent McGee is a member of _my_ team and I do not accept scum like you trying to further your own career at the expense of a man's life."

Agent Mallory sneered at him. "A man's life? You're being more melodramatic than he is."

Gibbs shoved him against the car again.

"You have no idea what happened up there. Believe me, if Agent McGee died because of your accusations, I'd make you regret it."

"You have anything better than words?"

Gibbs smiled grimly. "You don't _want_ anything more than words."

He let Agent Mallory go and stood back. Agent Mallory straightened his jacket.

"Are you done?" he asked, sarcastically.

Gibbs suddenly decided that there was no reason to hold back. He gave into his anger and punched Agent Mallory in the face. Agent Mallory reeled back against his car and slid down to the ground. Gibbs leaned over him.

" _Now,_ I'm done. Feel free to lodge a complaint."

Then, he turned and walked away. He didn't care if Vance chose to suspend him or put him on probation for that. He hadn't caused any permanent damage, but it had been extremely satisfying. It was worth it to see that idiot go down.

Now, he could just focus on making sure Tim got better.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The next time Tim woke up, he could tell a real difference. He wasn't so hot and uncomfortable. He wasn't happy about anything, but he could at least acknowledge that, physically, he felt better.

He felt a shift of weight on his legs. It was a weight he hadn't even consciously noticed before. Then, there was a whine.

Vardr. It amazed Tim how much Vardr was able to anticipate, how connected he seemed to be.

He couldn't forget what had happened in the house, though, either. What Vardr had done was not something a normal dog could do. Gibbs had told him about the spirit that had apparently been residing inside Vardr, but that alone couldn't explain what Vardr had done.

What was this dog and why had he chosen to attach himself to Tim? Was it just because of all this? Tim didn't know.

"Timothy? Are you awake?"

The voice was very soft. It wouldn't have disturbed him if he had been asleep.

"Yes," Tim said, and with some reluctance, opened his eyes.

Ducky was sitting beside him.

"I thought I saw you move, but I wasn't sure."

"I did."

Tim fumbled with the bed controls and moved it so that he was sitting up.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better...physically, anyway."

"Yes. The body recovers before the mind in many cases."

"Yeah." Tim looked down at his lap and saw Vardr looking at him with those bright eyes.

He was a dog. There was no question of it. He hadn't shown himself to be some kind of human (or demon) in disguise. He acted like a dog. ...and yet, he was not _just_ a dog.

"Timothy, would you be willing to speak with me about what happened?"

"Gibbs said you were there the whole time. You already know."

"But what did _you_ experience? I know my own experience but not your side of it."

Tim forced himself away from his contemplation of Vardr to look at Ducky again.

"My experience was going to bed, waking up in the stairwell, knowing that something was really wrong, remembering those red eyes, waking up again feeling even worse but knowing nothing, waking up again, feeling like I was about to die, waking up again and being told that I had killed three people and destroyed the Navy Yard, and then..." Tim paused and didn't want to keep going, but he looked back at Vardr and continued. "...spending the day alternating between wanting to die and trying to keep that...thing from taking over again, and then fighting him...it...whatever to keep him from destroying anything else. Then, I got to feel his pain as well as my own. I don't know if he died or not, but I felt him inside me and I felt his pain." Another pause. "That's my experience."

"I'm sorry, Timothy. I'm sorry for everything that you went through."

"The worst part isn't all that, though."

"What is?"

"Knowing that the world will...will look at me and see me as a murderer." He looked at Ducky again. "I killed three people, Ducky! And you can tell me all the day long that it wasn't me, but it looked like me. I don't remember it. I didn't see it happen, but what if I start feeling it? What if my body lets me know how it felt to kill an innocent person? How separate is my soul from my body, really? And who can answer that kind of question? No one can. Not about something like this." He sighed. "I just can't see any way that it can get better."

"But it can, and it will. Given time."

"Time is always the answer."

"Often, yes."

"How much time will it take the world to forget this?"

"I can't answer that."

"I know, but I don't see how I can go back to my life if I'm going to have to defend myself from the rest of the world. Maybe I should just leave. I said I was going to join a monastery once. I wasn't serious, but maybe that's the right idea. Isolation, separation from the world. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

Tim shook his head and looked away.

"Yes, I'll admit that it does have its appeal."

"Do you think people would let me do it?"

Ducky chuckled.

"I have no idea. Will you take Delilah with you to the monastery?"

Tim found that he could laugh.

"If they'd let me."

"I think a better idea would be to take whatever time off that you need and come back when you feel you're ready. Certainly, you're not ready now, neither physically nor mentally, but that won't always be the case."

"I think I like my idea better."

"I think that you shouldn't make any decisions until you're ready to."

"You're implying that I'm not ready, now?"

"That's correct."

Tim had to admit that Ducky was probably right.

"So what now?" he asked.

"If you are willing, I'll keep talking to you about this as you recover. Are you willing?"

"If the only other alternative is talking to a random shrink..."

"Probably."

"Then, I guess I'm willing."

"Good."

Tim wasn't going to say anything else, but then, he had to ask.

"Aren't you afraid?" he asked.

"Of what?"

"Of me," Tim said. "Of me...not being me."

"A little, yes, but not overly."

"Why not?"

Ducky reached out and began petting Vardr who closed his eyes and began making contented noises.

"Because Vardr isn't afraid of it. What I saw, Timothy, tells me that I can trust Vardr to let us know if there's something wrong. He doesn't think there's anything wrong. So I don't, either."

Tim looked at Vardr, too.

"Yeah. I wish I could be as confident as he is."

"Give it time."

"Always time."

"Yes."

"Ducky?" Tim asked, still looking at Vardr.

"Yes, lad?"

"How did you know it wasn't me? Was it just the eyes?"

"No. It wasn't. It was everything. Even if he hadn't told me that he was an invader, I would have known that it wasn't really you that I was speaking to. Now, I doubt I would have come to the conclusion of possession, but I would have known that something had warped you to the point that you were no longer Timothy McGee. The man I know isn't anything like him."

"But he left something behind."

"What do you mean?"

Tim looked up at Ducky, almost afraid that Ducky would recoil in horror, but he didn't. He was just sitting there, looking a bit confused.

"I know things, Ducky. Things that I didn't know before. Words in languages I don't know. Moments. Memories. He left things behind, and I don't like that they're there."

"We can't choose how we are affected in many cases. In this case, just as I was able to weaken him by treating him like a bacterial infection, his possession seems to have had a physical impact on you. That doesn't mean that you're now evil or powerful...unless you're hiding some abilities from us?"

Tim shook his head. Ducky smiled and continued.

"It just means that he left some of his knowledge behind. In the past, according to him, he killed the bodies he possessed. No one can know what would have happened to them, otherwise. I'm just glad that he was not able to kill this time."

"He did kill, Ducky," Tim said.

"But he did not kill you, and while I regret those other deaths, I am glad for the life he didn't take."

"It's just not fair," Tim said, feeling his throat tighten. "I didn't ask for this."

"Absolutely not, and you're right. It's not fair that you have to experience it. But fair or not, that is your lot, and we will all help you to the degree that we can."

Tim nodded and leaned the bed back again. He was tired and Ducky let him sleep.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Over the next few days, Tim was never left completely alone. While there were times when Tim slept that only Vardr was with him, if Tim was awake, he had company. Ducky continued to visit him and talk about what had happened, trying to help Tim come to terms with it. Delilah was there often giving support as much as she could. She also started the process of making sure Tim could keep Vardr. The FBI backed off in the face of Mallory's incompetence, particularly when Vance filed an official complaint and Fornell supported him in it. Mallory had apparently filed a counter complaint because of his confrontation with Gibbs, but it didn't go very far. Vance was entirely on Gibbs' side and also not above insinuating that Gibbs would get even more involved if his complaint against Mallory was ignored. There was still regular work to do, and Tony and Ellie were kept very busy, but they also visited Tim when they could, relieved that he was alive to visit at all.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony strode down the hall toward Tim's room, feeling a sense of triumph. He didn't care what Tim had to say about it. He felt very special with his discoveries and he wanted to share them. He'd done more voluntary research about this than probably anything ever in his life.

He knocked on the door and walked in without waiting.

Tim and Delilah pulled apart and looked over at him in surprise. Vardr was sleeping beside Tim on the bed, but Tim had definitely _not_ been sleeping.

"Tony...what are you doing here?" Tim asked. "It's the middle of the day."

"Sorry, McGee. I didn't realize you were...busy," Tony said.

Delilah smiled. "That's okay. I was just saying that I needed to get some lunch. Now that you're here, I'll feel better about going."

"You could have left, anyway," Tim said. "It's not like I'm free to go anywhere I want to. People are watching even if they're not here to visit."

"Even so," Delilah said. "I'll feel better. Thanks for coming by, Tony."

"My pleasure," Tony said. He opened the door wider and Delilah left. Then, he turned back and evaluated. Tim was looking a _lot_ better. Physically, he seemed to be on the recovery side of his experience. Ducky had said that his fever was basically gone and it was just a matter of rebuilding his strength. It was a relief to see it.

"Did you want something, Tony?" Tim asked.

"Looks like you were _getting_ something before I came in," Tony said, testing the waters a little bit.

Tim rolled his eyes. "If you're expecting a detailed report, you're about to be disappointed. A gentleman never tells."

"Just checking. I found some stuff and I think it's cool and so I came to tell you on my lunch break. If you knew it already and just hadn't mentioned it, don't tell me. I want to think that I figured this out before anyone else."

Tim smiled, and that made Tony exult a little bit inside. Tim was starting to respond normally to jokes!

"So what is it?"

"First, it turns out that Vardr actually means something! There's no E at the end. That's how I found it."

"Guardian. Or defender," Tim said, softly, with a look at his dog.

"Hey! You were supposed to pretend you didn't know!"

"I never agreed to that. You just said it," Tim said.

"Fine. I guess I won't share my much much cooler information that you won't know already," Tony said. "Maybe I'll tell Abby instead so she can know that finding out the Traveler was some Sumerian king from 5000 years ago isn't the only cool thing that happened."

"What is it, Tony?" Tim asked.

Tony feigned deep hurt.

"I don't know if I should tell you, quite frankly."

"Well, I don't know if I should care," Tim said. "So it's up to you."

"Okay, fine. Vardr is a Foo dog!"

"A what?" Tim asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"A Foo dog! Ducky and Gibbs told us about what they saw at the house and I was thinking about how it could be that Vardr could do all that and also be this weird supernatural thing himself."

"So what's a Foo dog?" Tim asked.

"It's Chinese, originally, but it's in Japan and Korea, too."

"Vardr isn't a Chinese word."

"So?" Tony asked. "I don't see why that's an issue. You said yourself that he was a mutt."

"What is a Foo dog?" Tim asked, in resignation.

"Actually, it's not really a dog at all. It's a lion."

"Then, why is it called a dog?"

"I have no idea."

"What is it?" Tim asked, with some irritation.

"It's a statue, well, it's a pair of statues. There are supposed to be two of them. They're put up outside people's houses to protect them!"

"A guard dog," Tim said, seeming more interested, now.

"Exactly! You said that Vardr must have some Shar Pei in him. The Shar Pei is originally a Chinese guard dog."

"But you guys said that he was possessed by this other...spirit...thing," Tim said.

"Not possessed, not exactly. Porphyrogene said that he would ride in their minds most of the time. He didn't like to take control of them. Maybe the reason he stayed so long with Vardr was because he wasn't the usual kind of dog. He said he was special."

Tim actually seemed a little skeptical. That made Tony want to laugh because it was ludicrous that the idea of Vardr being a little bit supernatural himself was hard to believe when Tim himself had been the focus of all these supernatural things.

"There doesn't have to be a special reason, but clearly they were both there."

"Fat lot of good they did. Couldn't stop it from happening."

"Yeah, I think we all would have preferred that route."

Tim took a breath and let it out all at once. No more fun right now.

"It's just that...there were two...beings in that house who supposedly didn't want this to happen, but they didn't stop it. It feels like it was futile. And then, is it really over? If they couldn't stop him at the beginning, who's to say that he won't be back again? Who's to say that he's really gone, now? Everyone thought he was before."

"Don't think like that. You can't."

"How else am I supposed to think?" Tim asked. "He already came back once when you thought he was gone."

"But did you?"

"I wasn't doing much thinking," Tim said. "Nothing was making much sense to me at the time. ...until..." He looked at Vardr and started petting him.

"Until what?"

Tim said nothing.

Tony sat down on the edge of the bed. Vardr woke up and then licked at Tim's arm as he petted him.

"Until what, Tim? What made sense to you?"

Tim swallowed and wouldn't look at him.

"Come on. After everything we've all seen..."

"Until Fornell and that FBI guy came and told me that I killed three people. That got in my head. I understood that. Then, all I could think about was that I had committed murder. Three times. And murderers don't deserve to live. That's all I could think about."

"Did you ever stop to think that it was that thing telling you all that?"

"Yes, but does it matter? Even a stopped clock is right twice a day."

"He's not right. He's the one who killed, not you. You didn't do it, Tim."

"Ducky keeps saying that, too...but are you guys right or is the rest of the world right?"

"We were there, not the rest of the world, and that FBI jerk is likely going to be fired because of what he did to you. Gibbs punched him out and was ready to do even more, but Vance wouldn't let him. Even Fornell thinks he should be fired. This isn't something you should be taking the blame for."

Tim looked at him and tried to smile.

"That's why I'm still here."

"And because you're still getting better. You look a _lot_ better than you did, but you still don't seem back to normal. Ducky said it's like you had a really bad infection and your body has to recover."

"Yeah. I haven't been doing much. I think Vardr is enjoying it. He seemed tired, too."

"He's been pretty busy."

"Yeah." Tim looked at Vardr and then back at Tony. "So...what else about the Foo dog? Or was that it?"

Tony grinned. "Well, they're always in pairs. One is supposed to be inhaling and the other exhaling."

"Why?"

"One to blow away evil and one to breathe in prosperity or to pronounce the meditation words. Depends on the tradition."

"So if they're always in pairs and Vardr is a Foo dog, why is he by himself?"

"His girlfriend is on a vacation?" Tony suggested.

"I don't think I could convince Delilah to get two dogs," Tim said. "So I hope you're wrong about that."

"Maybe they're taking a break?"

"It had better be a long one."

"A doggy lifetime."

"Whatever that might be. He's already an adult. I don't know what his lifespan will be. So what about his name?"

"You're the one who came up with it, not me," Tony said.

He was surprised when Tim shook his head.

"I don't think I did. I think _he_ did. Why Vardr, though? It's not Chinese."

"He's bilingual?"

"And I know other words. That thing...he knew Vardr. He used a different word, though."

"What word?" Tony asked, trying not to think about what it might mean that Tim's own dog told him his name.

"Massartu. Guardian, but in a different language. It's...really old. I don't know how old, but it's old, and it's what that thing said when he saw Vardr. That scares me, too. I don't want to know what he knows."

Vardr got up, stretched and ambled closer to Tim's face.

"No, Vardr. Please don't start licking my face again," Tim said.

Vardr ignored that and started licking Tim's face. However, he stopped after a few seconds and stared at Tim soulfully.

"What?"

Vardr whined at him.

"You know, for being some kind of superintelligent guard dog, I would have thought you could communicate more directly," Tim said.

"He's still a dog," Tony said.

"True." Tim leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you do me a favor?"

"As long as the favor isn't getting you a gun," Tony said.

It boggled his mind a little bit that they were all so easily talking about the fact that Tim had almost killed himself and still kind of wanted to. There was no real urgency to it which was weird. It was like Tim was considering it completely objectively rather than because of a real emotional need. But at the same time, there _was_ emotion attached to it. Tim was afraid of being taken over again, and he felt real guilt about the deaths of the three people Idalu had killed.

"No, but could you get me some real clothes? I asked my doctor already and he agreed that I'm at the point that I can get out of the hospital gown and into something normal."

"Sure," Tony said, trying to hide his relief. "What do you want?"

"Anything, really. Sweats, t shirts. Nothing special. Just real clothes instead of what I'm stuck in right now."

"I'll do that. You in any hurry for them?"

"No. Whenever you have the time."

"Okay." Tony looked at his watch. He had to get back if he was going to avoid being late. "I've got to run."

"Maybe you should take your car, instead."

"Huh?"

"Instead of running. I don't think you'd get back to NCIS on time," Tim said. Then, he smiled.

Tony laughed. "Sure thing, Probie." Then, he got serious for one more minute. "You're going to get better and you're going to _feel_ better, too. You'll see."

"Feel free to keep telling me that," Tim said.

"I will."

"Thanks."

Tony let himself out and nodded to the doctor as he left, letting him know that Tim was alone for the moment. So far as he knew, Tim hadn't made any attempt to repeat what he'd almost done at the house, but why risk it?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim sat on his bed, staring at Vardr.

Vardr stared back at him.

"Okay. What are you? Are you really a dog?" he asked.

Vardr made a noise at him and cocked his head to the side.

"Is that a yes? Because you don't act like a dog. You told me your name. Sort of. I think. You seem to understand me. You could tell when there was an evil demon inside of me, at least when he was in control. You seemed to know when he was starting to take over, even if I didn't understand that. Then, you seemed to burn that thing out of me. I don't know what kind of fire that was, but I felt it. It was agony, but it was killing him...it...whatever. I don't know if he just left before it killed him or if he's dead, but that was... It was a different kind of fire from the fever I've had. It really happened and I really want to know how you did it."

Vardr started panting at him. Tim would almost have thought he was smiling.

"You're looking a little smug, for a dog."

Vardr licked his face, just once.

Tim grimaced and wiped off his cheek.

"You don't have to keep doing that, you know."

Now, he almost swore that Vardr was smiling at him, and for the first time since all this had started, he genuinely felt like smiling back. It was almost like that same flame that had burned the evil thing out of him was now burning some of that depression from his mind.

Then, he felt something else. He leaned forward, hugged his dog, and started to cry. He hadn't felt the ability to let that go until this moment. He closed his eyes as he cried for what had happened to him. Part of him was embarrassed that he was crying, but another part of him was relieved that the dam had broken and all the pain and fear was being released.

He didn't know how long he sat there, crying, but at some point, he felt a hand on his back. Tim let Vardr go and sat up, quickly, and wiped at his eyes, unsure that he wanted to let this emotional release be seen by anyone he knew.

It was Gibbs.

Embarrassed. That was how he felt, right now.

"H-Hey, Boss," he said, trying to sound normal, but knowing he didn't. "What are y-you doing here?"

"Visiting."

"You should be at w-work."

"I know."

That was Gibbs. It didn't seem to matter what he _should_ be doing. It was always about he thought he _needed_ to be doing. If those two things clashed, he went with his gut feeling.

"You all right?"

"No," Tim said, but at the same time, he couldn't leave it at that. Not and be honest. "But...I'm starting to feel... a little better."

"Good."

Gibbs didn't ask him why he was crying. He didn't comment on the fact that Tim had been crying enough to be stammering, now. Tim knew that he probably looked absolutely ridiculous. His face was probably all blotchy, and he knew he was still pale. The blotches would be even more prominent. He was shaking a little, and he'd been hugging his dog. All in all, Tim was sure that _this_ was the worst he'd ever looked.

"I'm sorry for..." Then, he trailed off, unsure of how to apologize for this.

"Don't apologize. Was wondering when you'd finally give in."

"Give in?" Tim asked.

"This was something overwhelming, but it was like you weren't even feeling it. Ducky was worried that you'd repressed everything and that it would fester. Glad to see you letting it out."

"I wasn't repressing it, not consciously. I just...didn't...feel it."

Gibbs shrugged.

"Just don't try to go back from it, Tim. You went forward. Keep it up."

"I'll try, Boss."

"Good."

Gibbs sat down beside him and waited until Delilah got back. Then, he went back to work.

Tim slept very well that night.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 _He was walking through the large, empty room. As he walked, he looked for something that would tell him that this was truly over. Was that thing that had taken him over dead? Would he come back? He didn't know, but this place felt empty. It didn't feel like there was anything good or evil here._

" _Where am I?" he asked aloud._

 _He turned and there was a large door made entirely of glass. He walked to it and stepped out onto a large balcony overlooking a valley._

 _There were signs that it had been beautiful once, but now, it seemed dead._

" _It will rise again."_

 _He spun around and there was a man standing behind him._

" _Who are you? What are you doing here?" he asked._

" _I could ask you the same question. This is my place, not yours."_

" _It is? I thought it was a dream."_

" _It cannot be. I am dead. This is my home as it was when I lost my fight. You won yours."_

" _Porphyrogene," he said, the name coming easily to his mind._

" _Yes. That silly name my father gave me. I have searched for his soul, but I cannot find it. I do not know if that means that it is lost forever or if I will find it when I move on."_

" _Move on?"_

" _Away from my prison and to the next stage. If I can choose what I see in that next place, I hope it will be my home as it was before the evil came."_

" _What was it like?"_

 _Porphyrogene smiled wistfully._

" _Perhaps, now, in this place, I can show you. This is more of my memory than it is reality, anyway."_

 _He closed his eyes and there was a shifting feeling, as if he was standing on sand. The world around him blurred and changed. When the shifting stopped, he was looking at the same valley, but it was beautiful. Beautiful and green, full of life and happiness._

" _In the greenest of our valleys  
_ _By good angels tenanted,  
_ _Once a fair and stately palace-  
_ _Radiant palace- reared its head.  
_ _In the monarch Thought's dominion-  
_ _It stood there!  
_ _Never seraph spread a pinion  
_ _Over fabric half so fair!"_

" _Yes, I see it," he said._

" _I lost my fight, both when I lived and when I died, but perhaps, I was never meant to win. I could not stop him with my hatred, even though it was deserved. How did you stop him?"_

" _I didn't. My dog did."_

" _Your dog?" Porphyrogene seemed surprised, but then, he smiled. "I always thought he seemed special. It was easier being inside him than any other animal."_

" _I don't know what he is."_

" _A dog. A special dog. You are blessed that he has chosen you, but now, you should return to your own mind. It is best to keep your spirit within your own body if you can."_

" _I don't even know how I left."_

" _Then, do not think about it much. As your soul recovers, it will have the strength it has lost. I have no body, but now, I can go to another place. Good luck to you."_

 _He smiled. "Fair winds and following seas."_

" _Yes, and to you, always."_

 _The sights around him began to fade away, leaving him in darkness._

Tim opened his eyes and felt a hand on his arm and the comforting weight of Vardr on his legs. He looked over and saw Tony sleeping beside him. As he lay there, unmoving, he thought of what he had dreamed... if it had been a dream.

Dream or reality, he had never seen or interacted with Porphyrogene. He had only been told about him later. Come to think of it, had they ever told him the name? He couldn't remember, now.

Regardless, these dreams were making him feel better. Whether he should assume that they were real or not, whether or not it was just sign of his mind coping with the events, he was starting to feel better.

In a way, he was almost disappointed by that. He didn't feel _good_ , but he felt better. That meant he had to keep up trying to recover. He couldn't just give up as he'd wanted to before.

He took a deep breath and let it out loudly. Tony stirred and woke up.

"Hey, Tim. How are you feeling, today?" he asked.

"I've been better. ...and I've been worse."

"So are you closer to better or closer to worse?"

Tim thought about it.

"I'm not sure about that."

Tony looked at him for a few seconds.

"You know what? I'm okay with that. It's way better than just being worse."

"I guess so."

"I know so. So there."

Tim smiled, and it was a relief to be able to smile at all.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony sat with Tim for another hour, until Delilah came to take over.

Tim was feeling introspective, though. He was thinking about what had happened to him and how he felt about it. And as he thought about it, he felt less despairing than he had before. He was still very weak from his body's reaction to being possessed, as well as to the treatment Ducky had given him, but he was slowly recovering physically.

After another week, his doctors decided that he could go home, although not alone. Delilah was happy to have him out of the hospital, and if the others were more worried about it, they tried not to show it.

For his part, Tim was glad to get out of the hospital as well, even if it meant confronting the world again.

And the world wanted to confront him. He had multiple requests for interviews from any number of reporters.

He ignored them all.

He had to answer a _lot_ of questions from Vance.

It was a relief just to get them done.

He had to submit to a number of brain and body scans from doctors and research scientists who wanted to understand just what had happened to him.

He allowed it but hated every minute.

All in all, after two weeks away from the hospital, Tim started to feel more than a little overwhelmed by the attention, especially when the attention was for a horrible experience rather than something good.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I can't do this," Tim said.

Delilah looked up from her phone. She'd just been going through and deleting every message originating from the media.

"Do what?"

"Live like this," Tim said. "I can't live my life in a fish bowl, in a cage at the circus for people to point at and jeer at. I can't be a lab experiment. I don't want to be famous. I don't want people to know me. I don't want any of that, but I can't seem to get away from it."

Delilah quickly rolled over to Tim. He'd been climbing out of his depression, but he was still so wobbly, both physically and emotionally. She didn't want this to be the start of another decline.

"This won't last forever, Tim. Eventually, they'll move on to another big story and people will forget you."

Tim sighed and dropped his head onto the counter.

"I know that's supposed to make me feel better about it, but what I feel is that eventually is too long."

"What do you want to do, then, Tim?" Delilah asked.

"Leave. Leave until eventually comes."

"Where will we go?"

"I don't know. Away?"

Delilah smiled, even if Tim couldn't see her. It was sad, but she could understand it. People didn't care about how he felt about it. They just wanted to get what they thought they needed. For some, it wasn't even about need. It was about curiosity. They just didn't care what it did to Tim.

Vardr came running into the room. He wasn't acting distressed, but Delilah was noticing how attuned he seemed to be to Tim. He went to Tim and started nudging his leg. Tim didn't lift his head, but one of his hands reached down and started petting him. Delilah watched as Tim actually moved his head and looked down at Vardr. She was a little envious that Vardr was able to do this when neither she nor anyone else could so easily pull Tim out of himself. But whatever it took.

Tim sat up and looked at Delilah.

"I don't care where I go, but I need to go somewhere for a while. If it's until eventually gets here, then, that's great, but I thought I was ready to be back, but I'm not."

"Okay," Delilah said. "Then, we'll go somewhere for as long as you need to."

Tim looked at her and then leaned over and hugged her tightly.

"Thanks. I know that this isn't easy for you."

"It's harder for you," Delilah said. "We'll find somewhere to go."

"Okay."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Delilah talked to Gibbs and Ducky about where Tim could go to get away from everything. Surprisingly, it was Tony who gave a solution. He actually contacted his father and asked him if he could help. His dad was able to provide a space in upstate New York where Tim could be isolated.

Tim, Delilah and Vardr withdrew from the public who threatened to smother him with attention. For the next few weeks, they were in a country house, surrounded by forests, away from everyone. If Delilah wasn't completely thrilled about the isolation, she could see that it was helping Tim. He began to recover physically as he was able to have some time to deal with the emotional upheaval.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim left the house with Vardr and walked out into the trees surrounding the house. He was finally feeling enough energy to move around more than just walking from room to room. He needed some fresh air and some solitude. Delilah wanted the solitude as well. She wanted to be there for him when he needed her, but she also wanted some time to herself. So Tim was going out to places she couldn't go and he was staying away from her places.

After a few minutes of walking, he stopped and found a convenient log to sit on. Then, he looked around the trees. He could easily believe he was in the middle of nowhere, even though civilization was only a few miles away, at most. Vardr joined him and began drooling on his knee. Tim smiled at that.

Vardr seemed like a normal dog. Really, since that day at the house, he hadn't done a single thing that was not a normal dog thing. Even his uncanny ability to read Tim's mood could simply be doggy intuition. That had been shown to exist. Maybe he had too much of a tendency to lick Tim's face, but that was okay, too.

"Was all that just my imagination?" he asked. "I really wasn't thinking clearly that day...what with the demonic possession and everything. I could have just imagined it. You turning into a...a whatever and becoming two dogs instead of one and all that light. It could have just been my imagination. ...except that Ducky saw it, too. He didn't have a high fever."

Vardr just seemed to content to drool on him.

"Can't you show me, Vardr? If you're different, can't you just show me this once? Let me see what you are when I'm awake and aware."

Vardr sat up and looked at him.

"I don't know if you understand what I'm saying. I don't know if this is me just being nuts. If you do understand, I'm not asking this so that I can tell people about it. I'm only asking for myself. If you are something more, let me see it."

Vardr lifted his front paws and balanced on Tim's knees. Then, he looked deeply into Tim's eyes. Tim wasn't sure if this was a precursor to yet another bout of face licking. Still, if it was going to bring him what he was asking, he'd endure it.

Then, there was a change. Instead of looking at his dog, Tim was being drawn into some deep well. Part of him was resisting the idea of opening his mind to something like this, but he also had grown to trust Vardr.

He continued looking into the well.

 _He was somewhere in the past. Somehow, he knew he wasn't in the here and now. He saw two large dogs, vaguely resembling Vardr. They were sitting at the gates of a house. A wind came up, blowing toward the house, carrying evil with it._

 _Instantly, the two dogs were on the alert. One opened its mouth and began to growl. The other closed its mouth, as if closing a gate._

 _The wind blew against the dogs over and over again but never advanced beyond them._

 _After an unknown period, the wind faded away. Once all was calm again, the two dogs settled down and all went on as normal._

Tim leaned back in surprise and almost fell off the log.

"What was that? How did you do that?" he asked.

Vardr just barked at him.

"Was that you? Or was that an ancestor?"

Another bark. Vardr got down off Tim's knees and then trotted a few feet away from him. He barked again and crouched down as if he was on guard for something approaching. Then, as Tim watched, he began to increase in size. As he grew, he began to glow and there was a faint image of another dog beside him, almost like a reflection (real or not, Tim couldn't say). Vardr growled, and it sounded terrifying. Tim got to his feet and wasn't sure what he should do.

Then, the glow vanished abruptly and Vardr was standing there, his usual size. He barked a few more times and then ran over to Tim and licked at his limp hand.

"Wow," Tim said.

He didn't know what else he _could_ say about what he'd just seen. That was nothing like he'd expected.

He looked at Vardr again.

He just looked like a normal dog.

"A normal dog who can mind-meld with me and transform into a huge glowing...thing. Right."

Tim knelt down and looked at Vardr. Could he deal with knowing that his dog was anything _but_ normal?

But then, was Tim himself really normal anymore? He'd been possessed by some evil thing. That wasn't going to change. Maybe it was fitting that his dog was as abnormal as his master now was.

Maybe, he could learn to accept that abnormality.

Things could be a lot worse than having a strange dog.

"You ready to go back?" he asked.

Vardr started jumping around excitedly and the two of them left the trees and went back to the house. When he walked in, he saw Delilah relaxing on the couch, reading. He walked over and hugged her from behind.

"Did you have a good walk?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Still happy with your dog?" she asked with a smile.

Tim looked at Vardr.

"More now, than ever."

Delilah looked a little hesitant. "You know, Tim, he's already full grown. There's no way of knowing how long he'll live."

Tim nodded and looked at Vardr. Would being a supernatural guard dog lead to a longer or shorter life? He had no idea, but he'd take whatever he got.

"He'll live long enough." Then, Tim took a breath. "I'm ready to go back."

"You are?" Delilah asked in surprise. "Just like that?"

Tim nodded.

"If you're ready."

"I'm ready," she said. "We weren't here for me, you know."

"I know, and thank you for coming along."

"You're welcome. You really mean it? You're not just saying it?"

"I really mean it. I'm ready to go back. ...as long as I can take Vardr with me."

Delilah hugged Tim tightly. "Absolutely."

They ended up packing that night and going back to DC first thing the next morning.


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 _Two months later..._

Tim took a deep breath and looked at the NCIS building. He'd finally got clearance to return to work. The building was repaired. (No one understood why Vance's office and the windows had remained in their destroyed state when everything else had gone back to normal.) While there were still people wanting Tim's story, overall, the world had moved on from the strange events on the Yard. Vance had warned Tim that he'd be moved back into the field cautiously, just to make sure that their investigations weren't adversely affected by his unwanted celebrity.

There was one other difference.

Vardr barked and pushed at the back of his legs. Tim smiled. Right now, Vardr was an emotional crutch that he'd have to get beyond at some point, but for now, he liked having his own personal guard dog on hand at all times.

"Right. I'm ready. I'm ready, Vardr."

Tim went inside, ready to get back to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

 _Elsewhere..._

 _He'd never lost before. Never!_

 _He could not accept defeat._

 _He was too weak, now, but he would get his triumph._

 _The palace would rise again._

FINIS! ...maybe.


End file.
